__— 


S4-40  or  Fight 


54-40  OR  FIGHT 


BY 

EMERSON  HOUGH 


AUTHOR  OF 

THE  COVERED  WAGON, 
NORTH  OF  36,  ETC. 


GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS       NEW    YORK 

Made  in  the  United  btates  of  America 


COPYRIGHT  1909 
BY  EMERSON  HOUGH 

JANUARY 


rrwted  in  the  United  States  of  America 


TO 

Theodore  Roosevelt 

FRESIDENT   OF  THE   UNITED   STATES 
4ND  FIRM  BELIEVER  IN  THE   RULE  OF  THE  PEOPLE 

THIS  BOOK  IS  DEDICATED 

WITH  THE  LOYALTY  AND  ADMIRATION 

-OF  THE  AUTHOR 


993449 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  FAOT 

I  THE  MAKERS  OF  MAPS I 

II  BY  SPECIAL  DESPATCH 14 

III  IN  ARGUMENT ig 

IV  THE  BARONESS  HELENA .  2^ 

V  ONE  OF  THE  WOMEN  IN  THE  CASE 34 

VI  THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS 42 

VII  REGARDING  ELISABETH 65 

VIII   MR.  CALHOUN  ACCEPTS 82 

IX  A  KETTLE  OF  FISH 96 

X  MIXED  DUTIES 109 

XI  WHO  GIVETH  THIS  WOMAN 116 

XII  THE  MARATHON ,    .  122 

XIII  ON  SECRET  SERVICE 128 

XIV  THE  OTHER  WOMAN 133 

XV  WITH  MADAM  THE  BARONESS 154 

XVI  DEJEUNER  A  LA  FOURCHETTE 159 

XVII  A  HUNTER  OF  BUTTERFLIES 176 

XVIII  THE  MISSING  SLIPPER .187 

XIX  THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  TENNESSEE  ....  19^ 

XX  THE  LADY  FROM  MEXICO 208 

XXI  POLITICS  UNDER  COVER 217 

XXII  BUT  YET  A  WOMAN 228 

XXIII  SUCCESS  IN  SILK 237 


CONTENTS—  Continued 

CHAPTER  PAC« 

XXIV  THE  WHOA-HAW  TRAIL 241 

XXV  OREGON 251 

XXVI  THE  DEBATED  COUNTRY 256 

XXVII  IN  THE  CABIN  OF  MADAM ,    .    .  265 

CXVIII  WHEN  A  WOMAN  WOULD 292 

XXIX  IN  EXCHANGE 297 

XXX  COUNTER  CURRENTS .302 

XXXI  THE  PAYMENT 313 

XXXII  PAKENHAM'S  PRICE 320 

XXXIII  THE  STORY  OF  HELENA  VON  RITZ 329 

XXXIV  THE  VICTORY 349 

XXXV  THE  PROXY  OF  PAKENHAM  ...«,....  362 

XXXVi  THE  PALO  ALTO  BALL 378 

EPILOGUE    ...•»«. .*••••• 392 


or  Fight 


FIFTY- FOUR  FORTY 
OR  FIGHT 

CHAPTER    I 

THE  MAKERS  OF  MAPS 

There  is  scarcely  a  single  cause  in  which  a  woman  ?s  not 
engaged  in  some  way  fomenting  the  suit. — l*wen&\*  ,      ;  •  •  - 

THEN  you  offer  me  no  hope,  Doctor?" 
The  gray  mane  of  Doctor  Samuel  Ward 
waved  like  a  fighting  crest  as  he  made  answer  : 

"Not  the  sort  of  hope  you  ask."  A  moment  later 
he  added :  "John,  I  am  ashamed  of  you." 

The  cynical  smile  of  the  man  I  called  my  chief 
still  remained  upon  his  lips,  the  same  drawn  look  of 
suffering  still  remained  upon  his  gaunt  features; 
but  in  his  blue  eye  I  saw  a  glint  which  proved  that 
the  answer  of  his  old  friend  had  struck  out  some 
unused  spark  of  vitality  from  the  deep,  cold  flint  of 
his  heart 

"I  never  knew  you  for  a  coward,  Calhoun,"  went 
Dn  Doctor  Ward ;  "nor  any  of  your  family.  I  give 
vou  now  the  benefit  of  my  personal  acquaintance 

i 


*        FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

with  this  generation  of  the  Calhouns.  I  ask  some 
thing  more  of  you  than  faint-heartedness," 

The  keen  eyes  turned  upon  him  .again  with  the 
old  flame  of  flint  which  a  generation  had  known— 
a  generation,  for  the  most  part,  of  enemies.  On  my 
chief's  face  I  saw  appear  again  the  fighting  flush, 
proof  of  his  hard-fibered  nature,  ever  ready  to  re 
join  with  challenge  when  challenge  came. 

"Did  not  Saul  fall  upon  his  own  sword?"  asked 
John  Caihoun.  "Have  not  devoted  leaders  from  the 
start  of  the  world  till  now  sometimes  rid  the  scene 
of  the  responsible  figures  in  lost  fights,  the  men  on 
whom  blame  rested  for  failures?" 

"Cowards!"  rejoined  Doctor  Ward.  "Cowards, 
every  one  of  them!  Were  there  not  other  swords 
upon  which  they  might  have  fallen — those  of  their 
enemies?" 

"It  is  not  my  own  hand — my  own  swordj  Sam," 
said  Caihoun.  "Not  that.  You  know  as  well  as  I 
that  I  -am  already  marked  and  doomed,  even  as  I  sit 
at  my  table  to-night.  A  walk  of  a  wet  night  here  in 
Washington — a  turn  along  the  Heights  out  there 
when  the  winter  wind  is  keen — yes,  Sam,  I  see  my 
grave  before  me,  close  enough;  but  how  can  I  rest 
easy  in  that  grave  ?  Man,  we  have  not  yet  dreamed 
how  great  a  country  this  may  be.  We  must  have 
Texas.  We  must  have  also  Oregon.  We  must 
have—" 


THE   MAKERS    OF    MAPS  3 

**Free?"  The  old  doctor  shrugged  his  shoulders 
atnd  smiled  at  the  arch  pro-slavery  exponent 

"Then,  since  you  mention  it,  yes !"  retorted  Cal- 
toun  fretfully.  "But  I  shall  not  go  into  the  old 
irgument  of  those  who  say  that  black  is  white,  that 
South  is  North.  It  is  only  for  my  own  race  that  I 
plan  a  wider  America.  But  then — "  Calhoun  raised 
a  long,  thin  hand.  "Why/*  he  went  on  slowly,  "I 
have  just  told  you  that  I  have  failed.  And  yet  you, 
my  old  friend,  whom  I  ought  to  trust,  condemn  me 
to  live  on  I" 

Doctor  Samuel  Ward  took  snuff  again,  but  all  the 
answer  he  made  was  to  waggle  his  gray  mane  and 
stare  hard  at  the  face  of  the  other. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  at  length,  "I  condemn  you  to  fight 
on,  John ;"  and  he  smiled  grimly. 

"Why,  look  at  you,  man !"  he  broke  out  fiercely, 
after  a  moment.  "The  type  and  picture  of  combat ! 
Good  bone,  fine  bone  and  hard;  a  hard  head  and 
bony ;  little  eye,  set  deep ;  strong,  wiry  muscles,  not 
too  big — fighting  muscles,  not  dough;  clean  limbs; 
strong  fingers ;  good  arms,  legs,  neck;  wide  chest — "  ' 

"Then  you  give  me  hope?"  Calhoun  flashed  a 
smile  at  him. 

"No,  sir!  If  you  do  your  duty,  there  is  no  hop< 
ior  you  to  live.  If  you  do  not  do  your  duty,  there  is 
no  hope  for  you  to  die,  John  Calhoun,  for  more  than 
two  years  to  come — perhaps  five  years — six.  Keep 


4        FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

up  this  work — as  you  must,  my  friend — and  you  die 
as  surely  as  though  I  shot  you  through  as  you  sit 
there.  Now,  is  this  any  comfort  to  you  ?" 

A  gray  pallor  overspread  my  master's  face.  That 
truth  is  welcome  to  no  man,  morbid  or  sane,  sound 
or  ill ;  but  brave  men  meet  it  as  this  one  did. 

"Time  to  do  much!"  he  murmured  to  himself. 
"Time  to  mend  many  broken  vessels,  in  those  two 
years.  One  more  fight — yes,  let  us  have  it!" 

But  Calhoun  the  man  was  lost  once  more  in  Cal- 
houn  the  visionary,  the  fanatic  statesman.  He 
summed  up,  as  though  to  himself,  something  of  the 
situation  which  then  existed  at  Washington. 

"Yes,  the  coast  is  clearer,  now  that  Webster  is  out 
of  the  cabinet,  but  Mr.  Upshur's  death  last  month 
brings  in  new  complications.  Had  he  remained  our 
secretary  of  state,  much  might  have  been  done.  It 
was  only  last  October  he  proposed  to  Texas  a  treaty 
of  annexation." 

"Yes,  and  found  Texas  none  so  eager,"  frowned 
Doctor  Ward. 

"No ;  and  why  not?  You  and  I  know  well  enough. 
Sir  Richard  Pakenham,  the  English  plenipotentiary 
'here,  could  tell  if  he  liked.  England  is  busy  with 
Texas.  Texas  owes  large  funds  to  England.  Eng 
land  wants  Texas  as  a  colony.  There  is  fire  under 
this  smoky  talk  of  Texas  dividing  into  two  govern- 


THE    MAKERS    OF    MAPS  J 

tnentSj  one,  at  least,  under  England's  gentle  and 
unselfish  care! 

"And  now,  look  you,"  Calhoun  continued,  rising, 
and  pacing  up  and  down,  "look  what  is  the  evi 
dence.  Van  Zandt,  charge  d'affaires  in  Washington 
for  the  Republic  of  Texas,  wrote  Secretary  Upshui 
only  a  month  before  Upshur's  death,  and  told  him1 
to  go  carefully  or  he  would  drive  Mexico  to  resume 
the  war,  and  so  cost  Texas  the  friendship  of  Eng 
land!  Excellent  Mr.  Van  Zandt!  I  at  least  know 
what  the  friendship  of  England  means.  So,  he  asks 
us  if  we  will  protect  Texas  with  troops  and  ships  in 
case  she  does  sign  that  agreement  of  annexation. 
Cunning  Mr.  Van  Zandt !  He  knows  what  that  an 
swer  must  be  to-day,  with  England  ready  to  fight  us 
for  Texas  and  Oregon  both,  and  we  wholly  unready 
for  war.  Cunning  Mr.  Van  Zandt,  covert  friend  of 
England!  And  lucky  Mr.  Upshur,  who  was  killed, 
and  so  never  had  to  make  that  answer!" 

"But,  John,  another  will  have  to  make  it,  the  one 
way  or  the  other,"  said  his  friend. 

"Yes !"    The  long  hand  smote  on  the  table, 

"President  Tyler  has  offered  you  Mr.  Upshur's 
portfolio  as  secretary  of  state?" 

"Yes !"    The  long  hand  smote  again. 

Doctor  Ward  made  no  comment  beyond  a  long 
whistle,  as  he  recrossed  his  legs.  His  eyes  were 


FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

{fixed  on  Calhoun's  frowning  face.     "There  will  b* 
Events !"  said  he  at  length,  grinning. 

"I  have  not  yet  accepted/'  said  Calhoun.  "If  I 
do,  it  will  be  to  bring  Texas  and  Oregon  into  thi? 
Union,  one  slave,  the  other  free,  but  both  vast  and  ot 
a  mighty  future  for  us.  That  done,  I  resign  at 
once." 

"Will  you  accept?" 

Calhoun's  answer  was  first  to  pick  up  a  paper  from 
liis  desk.  "See,  here  is  the  despatch  Mr  Pakenham 
brought  from  Lord  Aberdeen  of  the  British  ministry 
to  Mr.  Upshur  just  two  days  before  his  death.  Judge 
whether  Aberdeen  wants  liberty — or  territory!  In 
effect  he  reasserts  England's  right  to  interfere  in 
our  affairs.  We  fought  one  war  to  disprove  that. 
England  has  said  enough  on  this  continent  And 
England  has  meddled  enough." 

Calhoun  and  Ward  looked  at  each  other,  sober  in 
their  realization  of  the  grave  problems  which  then 
beset  American  statesmanship  and  American 
thought  The  old  doctor  was  first  to  break  the 
silence.  "Then  do  you  accept?  Will  you  serve 
Ugain,  John?" 

"Listen  to  me.  If  I  do  accept,  I  shall  take  Mr 
lUpshur's  and  Mr.  Nelson's  place  only  on  one  con 
dition — yes,  if  I  do,  here  is  what  7  shall  say  to  Eng 
land  regarding  Texas.  I  shall  show  her  what  a 
Monroe  Doctrine  is ;  shall  show  her  that  while  Texas 


THE    MAKERS    OF    MAPS  f 

is  small  and  weak,  Texas  and  this  republic  are  not 
This  is  what  I  have  drafted  as  a  possible  reply.  1 
shall  tell  Mr.  Pakenham  that  his  chief's  avowal  of 
intentions  has  made  it  our  imperious  duty,  in  self- 
defense,  to  hasten  the  annexation  of  Texas,  cost 
what  it  may,  mean  what  it  may !  John  Calhoun  does 
not  shilly-shally. 

"That  will  be  my  answer,"  repeated  my  chief  at 
last  Again  they  looked  gravely,  each  into  the 
other's  eye,  each  knowing  what  all  this  might  mean. 

"Yes,  I  shall  have  Texas,  as  I  shall  have  Oregon, 
fettled  before  I  lay  down  my  arms,  Sam  Ward.  No, 
I  am  not  yet  ready  to  die !"  Calhoun's  old  fire  now 
flamed  in  all  his  mien. 

'The  situation  is  extremely  difficult,"  said  his 
friend  slowly.  "It  must  be  done ;  but  how  ?  We  are 
-as  a  nation  not  ready  for  war.  You  as  a  statesman 
are  not  adequate  to  the  politics  of  all  this.  Where  is 
your  political  party,  John?  You  have  none.  You 
have  outrun  all  parties.  It  will  be  your  ruin,  that 
you  have  been  honest  1" 

Calhoun  turned  on  him  swiftly.  "You  know  as 
well  as  I  that  mere  politics  will  not  serve.  It  will 
take  some  extraordinary  measure — you  know  men — - 
and,  perhaps,  women" 

"Yes,"  said  Doctor  Ward,  "and  a  precious  silly  lot 
they  are ;  the  two  running  after  each  other  and  for* 
getting  each  other;  using  and  wasting  each  other; 


*        FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

ruining  and  despoiling  each  other,  all  the 

from  Troy  to  Rome !     But  yes !     For  a  man,  set  a 

woman  for  a  trap.     Vice  versa,  I  suppose?" 

Calhoun  nodded,  with  a  thin  smile.  "As  it 
chances,  I  need  a  man.  Ergo,  and  very  plainly,  I 
must  use  a  woman !" 

They  looked  at  each  other  for  a  moment.  That 
Calhoun  planned  some  deep-laid  stratagem  was 
plain,  but  his  speech  for  the  time  remained  enig 
matic,  even  to  his  most  intimate  companion. 

"There  are  two  women  in  our  world  to-day,"  said 
Calhoun.  "As  to  Jackson,  the  old  fool  was  a  mon 
ogamist,  and  still  is.  Not  so  much  so  Jim  Polk  of 
Tennessee.  Never  does  he  appear  in  public  with 
eyes  other  than  for  the  Dona  Lucrezia  of  the  Mexi 
can  legation !  Now,  one  against  the  other — Mexico 
against  Austria — " 

Doctor  Ward  raised  his  eyebrows  in  perplexity. 

"That  is  to  say,  England,  and  not  Austria,"  went 
on  Calhoun  coldly.  "The  ambassadress  of  England 
to  America  was  born  in  Budapest!  So  I  say,  Aus 
tria;  or  perhaps  Hungary,  or  some  other  country, 
which  raised  this  strange  representative  who  has 
made  some  stir  in  Washington  here  these  last  few: 
weeks." 

"Ah,  you  mean  the  baroness!"  exclaimed  Doctor 
Ward.  "Tut!  Tut!" 

Calhoun  nodded,  with  the  same  cold,  thin  smile, 


THE    MAKERS    OF    MAPS  9 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  mean  Mr.  Pakenham's  reputed 
mistress,  his  assured  secret  agent  and  spy,  the  beau 
tiful  Baroness  von  Ritz !" 

He  mentioned  a  name  then  well  known  in  diplo 
matic  and  social  life,  when  intrigue  in  Washington, 
if  not  open,  was  none  too  well  hidden. 

"Gay  Sir  Richard!"  he  resumed.  "You  know,  his 
ancestor  was  a  brother-in-law  of  the  Duke  of  Well 
ington.  He  himself  seems  to  have  absorbed  some  of 
the  great  duke's  fondness  for  the  fair.  Before  he 
came  to  us  he  was  with  England's  legation  in  Mex 
ico.  'Twas  there  he  first  met  the  Dona  Lucrezia. 
'Tis  said  he  would  have  remained  in  Mexico  had  it 
not  been  arranged  that  she  and  her  husband,  Senor 
Yturrio,  should  accompany  General  Almonte  in  the 
Mexican  ministry  here.  On  these  conditions,  Sir 
Richard  agreed  to  accept  promotion  as  minister 
plenipotentiary  to  Washington !" 

"That  was  nine  years  ago,"  commented  Doctor 
Ward. 

"Yes;  and  it  was  only  last  fall  that  he  was  made 
envoy  extraordinary.  He  is  at  least  an  extraordi 
nary  envoy!  Near  fifty  years  of  age,  he  seems  to 
forget  public  decency;  he  forgets  e^en  the  Dona 
Lucrezia,  leaving  her  to  the  admiration  of  Mr.  Polk 
and  Mr.  Van  Zandt,  and  follows  off  after  the 
sprightly  Baroness  von  Ritz.  Meantime,  Senor  Ytur 
rio  also  forgets  the  Dona  Lucrezia,  and  proceeds 


tio      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

also  to  follow  after  the  baroness — although  with 
less  hope  than  Sir  Richard,  as  they  say!  At  least 
Pakenham  has  taste!  The  Baroness  von  Ritz  has 
brains  and  beauty  both.  It  is  she  who  is  England's 
real  envoy.  Now,  I  believe  she  knows  England's 
real  intentions  as  to  Tex  as. " 

Doctor  Ward  screwed  his  lips  for  a  long  whistle, 
as  he  contemplated  John  Calhoun's  thin,  determine^ 
face. 

"I  do  not  care  at  present  to  say  more,"  went  on 
my  chief;  "but  do  you  not  see,  granted  certain  mo 
tives,  Polk  might  come  into  power  pledged  to  the 
extension  of  our  Southwest  borders — " 

"Calhoun,    are    you    mad?"    cried    his    friend 
"Would  you  plunge  this  country  into  war?    Would 
you  pit  two  peoples,   like  cocks  on  a  floor?    And 
would  you  use  women  in  our  diplomacy?" 

Calhoun  now  was  no  longer  the  friend,  the  hu> 
manitarian.  He  was  the  relentless  machine;  the  idea; 
the  single  purpose,  which  to  the  world  at  large  he 
had  been  all  his  life  in  Congress,  in  cabinets,  on  this 
or  the  other  side  of  the  throne  of  American  power. 
He  spoke  coldly  as  he  went  on : 

"In  these  matters  it  is  not  a  question  of  means,  but 
of  results.  If  war  comes,  let  it  come;  although  I 
hope  it  will  not  come.  As  to  the  use  of  women — tell 
me,  why  not  women?  Why  anything  else  but 
women?  It  is  only  playing  life  against  life;  one 


THE    MAKERS    OF    MAPS  it 

variant  against  another.  That  is  politics,  my  friend. 
I  want  Pakenham.  So,  I  must  learn  what  Pakenham 
wants!  Does  he  want  Texas  for  England,  or  the 
Baroness  von  Ritz  for  himself?" 

Ward  still  sat  and  looked  at  him.  "My  God  1" 
said  he  at  last,  softly ;  but  Calhoun  went  on : 

"Why,  who  has  made  the  maps  of  the  world,  and 
who  has  written  pages  in  its  history?  Who  makes 
and  unmakes  cities  and  empires  and  republics  to 
day  ?  Woman,  and  not  man !  Are  you  so  ignorant 
— and  you  a  physician,  who  know  them  both  ?  Gad, 
man,  you  do  not  understand  your  own  profession, 
and  yet  you  seek  to  counsel  me  in  mine!" 

"Strange  words  from  you,  John,"  commented  his 
friend,  shaking  his  head;  "not  seemly  for  a  man 
who  stands  where  you  stand  to-day." 

"Strange  weapons — yes.  If  I  could  always  use 
my  old  weapons  of  tongue  and  brain,  I  would  not 
need  these,  perhaps.  Now  you  tell  me  my  time  is 
short.  I  must  fight  now  to  win.  I  have  never  fought 
to  lose.  I  can  not  be  too  nice  in  agents  and  instru 
ments." 

The  old  doctor  rose  and  took  a  turn  up  and  down 
the  little  room,  one  of  Calhoun's  modest  menage  at 
the  nation's  capital,  which  then  was  not  the  city  it  is 
to-day.  Calhoun  followed  him  with  even  steps- 

"Changes  of  maps,  my  friend  ?  Listen  to  me.  The 
geography  of  America  for  the  next  fifty  years  rests 


12       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

under  a  little  roof  over  in  M  Street  to-night — a  roof 
which  Sir  Richard  secretly  maintains.  The  map  of 
the  United  States,  I  tell  you,  is  covered  with  a  down 
counterpane  a  deux,  to-night.  You  ask  me  to  go  on 
with  my  fight.  I  answer,  first  I  must  find  the 
woman.  Now,  I  say,  I  have  found  her,  as  you  know. 
Also,  I  have  told  you  where  I  have  found  her.  Un 
der  a  counterpane!  Texas,  Oregon,  these  United 
States  under  a  counterpane !" 

Doctor  Ward  sighed,  as  he  shook  his  head.  "I 
don't  pretend  to  know  now  all  you  mean/' 

Calhoun  whirled  on  him  fiercely,  with  a  vigoi 
which  his  wasted  frame  did  not  indicate  as  possible. 

"Listen,  then,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  John  CaU 
houn  means — John  Calhoun,  who  has  loved  his  own 
state,  who  has  hated  those  who  hated  him,  who  has 
never  prayed  for  those  who  despitefully  used  him, 
who  has  fought  and  will  fight,  since  all  insist  on 
that.  It  is  true  Tyler  has  offered  me  again  to-day 
the  portfolio  of  secretary  of  state.  Shall  I  take  it? 
If  I  do,  it  means  that  I  am  employed  by  this  admin 
istration  to  secure  the  admission  of  Texas.  Can  you 
believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  my  ambition  is  for  it 
all — all,  every  foot  of  new  land,  west  to  the  Pacific, 
that  we  can  get,  slave  or  free?  Can  you  believe 
John  Calhoun,  pro-slavery  advocate  and  orator  all 
his  life,  when  he  says  that  he  believes  he  is  an 
humble  instrument  destined,  with  God's  aid,  and 


THE    MAKERS    OF    MAPS  13 

trough  the  use  of  such  instruments  as  our  human 
society  affords,  to  build,  not  a  wider  slave  country, 
but  a  wider  America  ?" 

"It  would  be  worth  the  fight  of  a  few  years  more, 
Calhoun,"  gravely  answered  his  old  friend.  "I  ad 
mit  I  had  not  dreamed  this  of  you." 

"History  will  not  write  it  of  me,  perhaps,"  went 
on  my  chief.  "But  you  tell  me  to  fight,  and  now  I 
shall  fight,  and  in  my  own  way.  I  tell  you,  that  an 
swer  shall  go  to  Pakenham.  And  I  tell  you,  Paken- 
ham  shall  not  dare  take  offense  at  me.  War  with 
Mexico  we  possibly,  indeed  certainly,  shall  have. 
War  on  the  Northwest,  too,  we  yet  may  have  un 
less — "  He  paused;  and  Doctor  Ward  prompteu 
him  some  moments  later,  as  he  still  remained  in 
thought. 

"Unless  what,  John?  What  do  you  mean — stilJ 
hearing  the  rustle  of  skirts?" 

"Yes! — unless  the  celebrated  Baroness  Helena  von 
Ritz  says  otherwise !"  replied  he  grimly. 

"How  dignified  a  diplomacy  have  we  here!  You 
plan  war  between  two  embassies  on  the  distaff  side !" 
smiled  Doctor  Ward. 

Calhoun  continued  his  walk.  "I  do  not  say  so," 
he  made  answer;  "but,  if  there  must  be  war,  we  may 
reflect  that  war  is  at  its  best  when  woman  £*  in  the 
field!" 


CHAPTER   II 

BY  SPECIAL  DESPATCH 

In  all  eras  and  all  climes  a  woman  of  great  genius  or  beauty 
has  done  what  she  chose. — Ouida. 

'"T^TICHOLAS,"  said  Calhoun,  turning  to  me 

I  ^L]     suddenly,  but  with  his  invariable  kindli- 

JL     ll     ness  of  tone,  "oblige  me  to-night.     I  have 

written  a  message  here.  You  will  see  the  address — " 

"I  have  unavoidably  heard  this  lady's  name/*  I 
hesitated. 

"You  will  find  the  lady's  name  above  the  seal. 
Take  her  this  message  from  me.  Yes,  your  errand 
is  to  bring  the  least  known  and  most  talked  of  wom 
an  in  Washington,  alone,  unattended  save  by  your 
self,  to  a  gentleman's  apartments,  to  his  house,  at  a 
time  past  the  hour  of  midnight !  That  gentleman  is 
myself !  You  must  not  take  any  answer  in  the  neg 
ative." 

As  I  sat  dumbly,  holding  this  sealed  document  in 
my  hand,  he  turned  to  Doctor  Ward,  with  a  nod  to 
ward  myself. 

14 


BY   SPECIAL   DESPATCH  15 

"I  choose  my  young  aide,  Mr.  Trist  here,  for  good 
reasons.  He  is  just  back  from  six  months  in  the 
wilderness,  and  may  be  shy  ;  but  once  he  had  a  way 
with  women,  so  they  tell  me  —  and  you  know,  in  ap 
proaching  the  question  ad  feminam  we  operate  per 


Doctor  Ward  took  snuff  with  violence  as  he  re 
garded  me  critically. 

"I  do  not  doubt  the  young  man's  sincerity  and 
faithfulness,"  said  he.  "I  was  only  questioning  one 
thing." 

"Yes?" 

"His  age." 

Calhoun  rubbed  his  chin.  "Nicholas,"  said  he 
"you  heard  me.  I  have  no  wish  to  encumber  you 
with  useless  instructions.  Your  errand  is  before  you. 
Very  much  depends  upon  it,  as  you  have  heard.  All 
I  can  say  is,  keep  your  head,  keep  your  feets  and 
keep  your  heart!" 

The  two  older  men  both  turned  now,  and  smiled 
at  me  in  a  manner  not  wholly  to  my  liking.  Neither- 
was  this  errand  to  my  liking. 

It  was  true,  I  was  hardly  arrived  home  after  many 
months  in  the  West  ;  but  I  had  certain  plans  of  my 
own  for  that  very  night,  and  although  as  yet  I  had 
made  no  definite  engagement  with  my  fiancee,  Miss 
Elisabeth  Churchill,  of  Elmhurst  Farm,  for  meeting 
her  at  the  great  ball  this  night,  such  certainly  was 


16       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

my  desire  and  my  intention.  Why,  I  had  scarce  seen 
Elisabeth  twice  in  the  last  year. 

"How  now,  Nick,  my  son?"  began  my  chief. 
"Have  staff  and  scrip  been  your  portion  so  long  that 
you  are  wholly  wedded  to  them  ?  Come,  I  think  the 
night  might  promise  you  something  of  interest  I 
assure  you  of  one  thing — you  will  receive  no  willing 
answer  from  the  fair  baroness.  She  will  scoff  at 
you,  and  perhaps  bid  you  farewell.  See  to  it,  then ; 
do  what  you  like,  but  bring  her  with  you,  and  bring 
her  here. 

"You  will  realize  the  importance  of  all  this  when 
I  tell  you  that  my  answer  to  Mr.  Tyler  must  be 
in  before  noon  to-morrow.  That  answer  will  de 
pend  upon  the  answer  the  Baroness  von  Ritz  makes 
to  me,  here,  to-night!  I  can  not  go  to  her,  so  she 
must  come  to  me.  You  have  often  served  me  well, 
my  son.  Serve  me  to-night.  My  time  is  short;  I 
have  no  moves  to  lose.  It  is  you  who  will  decide 
before  morning  whether  or  not  John  Calhoun  is  the 
next  secretary  of  state.  And  that  will  decide 
whether  or  not  Texas  is  to  be  a  state."  I  had  never 
seen  Mr.  Calhoun  so  intent,  so  absorbed. 

We  all  three  now  sat  silent  in  the  little  room 
where  the  candles  guttered  in  the  great  glass  cylin-, 
dres  on  the  mantel — an  apartment  scarce  bettet 
lighted  by  the  further  aid  of  lamps  fed  by  oil. 

"He  might  be  older,"  said  Calhoun  at  length, 


BY    SPECIAL    DESPATCH  17 

speaking  of  me  as  though  I  were  not  present.  "And 
'tis  a  hard  game  to  play,  if  once  my  lady  Helena 
takes  it  into  her  merry  head  to  make  it  so  for  him. 
But  if  I  sent  one  shorter  of  stature  ,and  uglier  of 
visage  and  with  less  art  in  approaching  a  crinoline — 
why,  perhaps  he  would  get  no  farther  than  her  door. 
No;  he  will  serve — he  must  serve!" 

He  arose  now,  and  bowed  to  us  both,  even  as  I 
rose  and  turned  for  my  cloak  to  shield  me  from  the 
raw  drizzle  which  then  was  falling  in  the  streets. 
Doctor  Ward  reached  down  his  own  shaggy  top  hat 
from  the  rack. 

"To  bed  with  you  now,  John,"  said  he  sternly. 

"No,  I  must  write." 

"You  heard  me  say,  to  bed  with  you !  A  stiff 
toddy  to  make  you  sleep.  Nicholas  here  may  wake 
you  soon  enough  with  his  mysterious  companion.  I 
think  to-morrow  will  be  time  enough  for  you  to 
work,  and  to-morrow  very  likely  will  bring  work 
for  you  to  do." 

Calhoun  sighed.  "God !"  he  exclaimed,  "if  I  but 
had  back  my  strength !  If  there  were  more  than 
those  scant  remaining  years !" 

"Go!"  said  he  suddenly;  and  so  we  others  passed 
down  his  step  and  out  into  the  semi-lighted  streets. 

So  this,  then,  was  my  errand.  My  mind  still 
tingled  at  its  unwelcome  quality.  Doctor  Ward 
guessed  something  of  my  mental  dissatisfaction. 


1 8      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

"Never  mind,  Nicholas,"  said  he,  as  we  parted 
at  the  street  corner,  where  he  climbed  into  the 
rickety  carriage  which  his  colored  driver  held  await* 
ing  him.  "Never  mind.  I  don't  myself  quite  know 
what  Calhoun  wants;  but  he  would  not  ask  of  yoi 
anything  personally  improper.  Do  his  errand,  then, 
It  is  part  of  your  work.  In  any  case — "  and  1 
thought  I  saw  him  grin  in  the  dim  light — "you  may 
have  a  night  which  you  will  remember." 

There  proved  to  be  truth  in  what  he  said. 


CHAPTER   III 

IN  ARGUMENT 
The  egotism  of  women  is  always  for  two. — Mme.  De  St'dei. 

THE   thought   of   missing   my   meeting   with 
Elisabeth  still  rankled  in  my  soul.     Had  it 
been  another  man  who  asked  me  to  carry  this 
message,  I  must  have  refused.     But  this  man  was 
my  master,  my  chief,  in  whose  service  I  had  en 
gaged. 

Strange  enough  it  may  seem  to  give  John  Calhoun 
any  title  showing  love  or  respect.  To-day  most  men 
call  him  traitor — call  him  the  man  responsible  for 
the  war  between  North  and  South — call  him  the 
arch  apostle  of  that  impossible  doctrine  of  slavery, 
which  we  all  now  admit  was  wrong.  Why,  then, 
should  I  love  him  as  I  did?  I  can  not  say,  except 
that  I  always  loved,  honored  and  admired  courage, 
uprightness,  integrity. 

For  myself,  his  agent,  I  had,  as  I  say,  left  the  old 
Frist  homestead  at  the  foot  of  South  Mountain  in 
Maryland,  to  seek  my  fortune  in  our  capital  city.  I 
had  some  three  or  four  years'  semi -diplomatic 
19 


*o      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

training  when  I  first  met  Calhoun  and  entered  his 
service  as  assistant  It  was  under  him  that  I  fin 
ished  my  studies  in  law.  Meantime,  I  was  his 
messenger  in  very  many  quests,  his  source  of  infor 
mation  in  many  matters  where  he  had  no  time  to  go 
into  details. 

Strange  enough  had  been  some  of  the  circum 
stances  in  which  I  found  myself  thrust  through 
this  relation  with  a  man  so  intimately  connected  for 
a  generation  with  our  public  life.  Adventures  were 
always  to  my  liking,  and  surely  I  had  my  share.  I 
knew  the  frontier  marches  of  Tennessee  and  Ala 
bama,  the  intricacies  of  politics  of  Ohio  and  New 
York,  mixed  as  those  things  were  in  Tyler's  time. 
J  had  even  been  as  far  west  as  the  Rockies,  of  which 
young  Fremont  was  now  beginning  to  write  so  un- 
derstandingly.  For  six  months  I  had  been  in  Mis 
sissippi  and  Texas  studying  matters  and  men,  and 
now,  just  back  from  Natchitoches,  I  felt  that  I  had 
earned  some  little  rest. 

But  there  was  the  fascination  of  it — that  big  game 
of  politics.  No,  I  will  call  it  by  its  better  name  of, 
statesmanship,  which  sometimes  it  deserved  in  those 
days,  as  it  does  not  to-day.  That  was  a  day  of  War- 
wicks.  The  nominal  rulers  did  not  hold  the  greatest 
titles.  Naturally,  I  knew  something  of  these  things,* 
from  the  nature  of  my  work  in  Calhoun's  office.  I 
have  had  insight  into  documents  which  never  be- 


IN   ARGUMENT  21 

came  public.  I  have  seen  treaties  made.  I  have  seen 
the  making  of  maps  go  forward.  This,  indeed,  I 
was  in  part  to  see  that  very  night,  and  curiously,  too. 

How  the  Baroness  von  Ritz — beautiful  adventur 
ess  as  she  was  sometimes  credited  with  being,  charm 
ing  woman  as  she  was  elsewhere  described,  fasci 
nating  and  in  some  part  dangerous  to  any  man,  as 
all  admitted — could  care  to  be  concerned  with  this 
purely  political  question  of  our  possible  territories, 
I  was  not  shrewd  enough  at  that  moment  in  advance 
to  guess;  for  I  had  nothing  more  certain  than  the 
rumor  she  was  England's  spy.  I  bided  my  time, 
knowing  that  ere  long  the  knowledge  must  come  to 
me  in  Calhoun's  office  even  in  case  I  did  not  first 
learn  more  than  Calhoun  himself. 

Vaguely  in  my  conscience  I  felt  that,  after  all,  my 
errand  was  justified,  even  though  at  some  cost  to  my 
own  wishes  and  my  own  pride.  The  farther  I  walked 
in  the  dark  along  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  into  which 
finally  I  swung  after  I  had  crossed  Rock  Bridge,  the 
more  I  realized  that  perhaps  this  big  game  was 
worth  playing  in  detail  and  without  quibble  as  the 
master  mind  should  dictate.  As  he  was  servant  of  a 
purpose,  of  an  ideal  of  triumphant  democracy,  why 
should  not  I  also  serve  in  a  cause  so  splendid? 

I  was,  indeed,  young — Nicholas  Trist,  of  Mary 
land;  six  feet  tall,  thin,  lean,  always  hungry,  per 
haps  a  trifle  freckled,  a  little  sandy  of  hair,  blue  I 


22      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

suppose  of  eye,  although  I  am  not  sure;  good  rider 
and  good  marcher,  I  know;  something  of  an  expert 
with  the  weapons  of  my  time  and  people;  fond  of  a 
horse  and  a  dog  and  a  rifle — yes,  and  a  glass  and  a 
girl,  if  truth  be  told.  I  was  not  yet  thirty,  in  spite  of 
my  western  travels.  At  that  age  the  rustle  of  silk 
or  dimity,  the  suspicion  of  adventure,  tempts  the 
worst  or  the  best  of  us,  I  fear.  Woman ! — the  very 
sound  of  the  word  made  my  blood  leap  then.  I  went 
forward  rather  blithely,  as  I  now  blush  to  confess. 
"If  there  are  maps  to  be  made  to-night,"  said  I,  "the 
Baroness  Helena  shall  do  her  share  in  writing  on  my 
chief's  old  mahogany  desk,  and  not  on  her  own 
dressing  case." 

That  was  an  idle  boast,  though  made  but  to  my 
self.    I  had  not  yet  met  the  woman. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE  BARONESS    HELENA 

Woman  is  seldom  merciful  to  the  man  who  is  timid 

— Edward  Bulwer  Lytion. 

THERE  was  one  of  our  dim  street  lights  at 
a  central  corner  on  old  Pennsylvania  Ave 
nue,   and   under   it,   after   a   long   walk,    I 
paused  for  a  glance  at  the  inscription  on  my  sealed 
document.     I  had  not  looked  at  it  before  in  the  con* 
fusion  of  my  somewhat,  hurried  mental  processes.    In 
addition  to  the  name  and  street  number,  in  Calhoun's 
writing,  I  read  this  memorandum:    "Knock  at  the 
third  door  in  the  second  block  beyond  M  Street." 

I  recalled  the  nearest  cross  street ;  but  I  must  con 
fess  the  direction  still  seemed  somewhat  cryptic. 
Puzzled,  I  stood  under  the  lamp,  shielding  the  face 
of  the  note  under  my  cloak  to  keep  off  the  rain,  as  I 
studied  it 

The  sound  of  wheels  behind  me  on  the  muddy 
pavement  called  my  attention,  and  I  looked  about 
A  carriage  came  swinging  up  to  the  curb  where  I 
stood.  It  was  driven  rapidly,  and  as  it  approached 

23 


24      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

the  door  swung  open ,  I  heard  a  quick  word,  and  the 
driver  pulled  up  hib  horses.  I  saw  the  light  shine 
through  the  door  on  a  glimpse  of  white  satin.  I 
looked  .again.  Yes,  it  was  a  beckoning  hand !  The 
negro  driver  looked  at  me  inquiringly. 

Ah,  well,  I  suppose  diplomacy  under  the  stars  runs 
much  the  same  in  all  ages.  I  have  said  that  I  loved 
Elisabeth,  but  also  said  I  was  not  yet  thirty.  More 
over,  I  was  a  gentleman,  and  here  might  be  a  lady 
in  need  of  help.  I  need  not  say  that  in  a  moment  I 
was  at  the  side  of  the  carriage.  Its  occupant  made 
no  exclamation  of  surprise;  in  fact,  she  moved  back 
upon  the  other  side  of  the  seat  in  the  darkness,  as 
though  to  make  room  for  me ! 

I  was  absorbed  in  a  personal  puzzle.  Here  was  I, 
messenger  upon  some  important  errand,  as  I  might 
guess.  But  white  satin  and  a  midnight  adventure — 
at  least,  a  gentleman  might  bow  and  ask  if  he  could 
be  of  assistance ! 

A  dark  framed  face,  whose  outlines  I  could  only 
dimly  see  in  the  faint  light  of  the  street  lamp,  leaned 
toward  me.  The  same  small  hand  nervously  reached 
out,  as  though  in  request. 

I  now  very  naturally  stepped  closer.  A  pair  of 
wide  and  very  dark  eyes  was  looking  into  mine. 
I  could  now  see  her  face.  There  was  no  smile  upon 
her  lips.  I  had  never  seen  her  before,  that  was  sure 
^— nor  did  I  ever  think  to  see  her  like  again ;  I  could 


THE    BARONESS    HELENA  25 

say  that  even  then,  even  in  the  half  light  Just  a 
trifle  foreign,  the  face;  somewhat  dark,  but  not  too 
dark;  the  lips  full,  the  eyes  luminous,  the  forehead 
beautifully  arched,  chin  and  cheek  beautifully 
rounded,  nose  clean-cut  and  straight,  thin  but  not 
pinched.  There  was  nothing  niggard  about  her.) 
She  was  magnificent — a  magnificent  woman.  I  saw 
that  she  had  splendid  jewels  at  her  throat,  in  her 
ears — a  necklace  of  diamonds,  long  hoops  of  dia 
monds  and  emeralds  used  as  ear-rings ;  a  sparkling 
clasp  which  caught  at  her  white  throat  the  wrap 
which  she  had  thrown  about  her  ball  gown — for 
now  I  saw  she  was  in  full  evening  dress.  I  guessed 
she  had  been  an  attendant  at  the  great  ball,  that  ball 
which  I  had  missed  with  so  keen  a  regret  myself— 
the  ball  where  I  had  hoped  to  dance  with  Elisabeth. 
Without  doubt  she  had  lost  her  way  and  was  asking 
the  first  stranger  for  instructions  to  her  driver. 

My  lady,  whoever  she  was,  seemed  pleased  with 
her  rapid  temporary  scrutiny.  With  a  faint  mur 
mur,  whether  of  invitation  or  not  I  scarce  could  tell, 
she  drew  back  again  to  the  farther  side  of  the  seat 
Before  I  knew  how  or  why,  I  was  at  her  side.  The 
driver  pushed  shut  the  door,  and  whipped  up  hi? 
team. 

Personally  I  am  gifted  with  but  small  imagina 
tion.  In  a  very  matter  of  fact  way  I  had  got  into 
this  carriage  with  a  strange  lady.  Now  in  a  sober. 


26      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

and  matter  of  fact  way  it  appeared  to  me  my  duty  to 
find  out  the  reason  for  this  singular  situation. 

"Madam,"  I  remarked  to  my  companion,  "in  what 
manner  can  I  be  of  service  to  you  this  evening?" 

I  made  no  attempt  to  explain  who  I  was,  or  to  ask 
who  or  what  she  herself  was,  for  I  had  no  doubt  that 
our  interview  soon  would  be  terminated. 

"I  am  fortunate  that  you  are  a  gentleman,"  she 
said,  in  a  low  and  soft  voice,  quite  distinct,  quite 
musical  in  quality,  and  marked  with  just  the  faintest 
trace  of  some  foreign  accent,  although  her  English 
was  perfect. 

I  looked  again  at  her.  Yes,  her  hair  was  dark; 
that  was  sure.  It  swept  up  in  a  great  roll  above  her 
oval  brow.  Her  eyes,  too,  must  be  dark,  I  confirmed. 
Yes — as  a  passed  lamp  gave  me  aid — there  were 
strong  dark  brows  above  them.  Her  nose,  too,  was 
patrician;  her  chin  curving  just  strongly  enough, 
but  not  too  full,  and  faintly  cleft,  a  sign  of  power, 
they  say. 

A  third  gracious  lamp  gave  me  a  glimpse  of  her 
figure,  huddled  back  among  her  draperies,  and  I 
guessed  her  to  be  about  of  medium  height.  A  fourth 
lamp  showed  me  her  hands,  small,  firm,  white;  also 
I  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  arm,  as  it  lay  out 
stretched,  her  fingers  clasping  a  fan.  So  I  knew 
her  arms  were  round  and  taper,  hence  all  her  limbs 
and  figure  finely  molded,  because  nature  does  not  do 


THE    BARONESS    HELENA  27 

such  things  by  halves,  and  makes  no  bungles  in  her 
symmetry  of  contour  when  she  plans  a  noble  speci 
men  of  humanity.  Here  was  a  noble  specimen  of 
what  woman  may  be. 

On  the  whole,  as  I  must  confess,  I  sighed  rather 
comfortably  at  the  fifth  street  lamp;  for,  if  my  chief 
must  intrust  to  me  adventures  of  a  dark  night — ad-< 
ventures  leading  to  closed  carriages  and  strange 
companions — I  had  far  liefer  it  should  be  some  such 
woman  as  this.  I  was  not  in  such  a  hurry  to  ask 
again  how  I  might  be  of  service.  In  fact,  being 
somewhat  surprised  and  somewhat  pleased,  I  re 
mained  silent  now  for  a  time,  and  let  matters  adjust 
themselves;  which  is  not  a  bad  course  for  any  one 
similarly  engaged. 

She  turned  toward  me  at  last,  deliberately,  her 
fan  against  her  lips,  studying  me.  And  I  did  as 
much,  taking  such  advantage  as  I  could  of  the  pass 
ing  street  lamps.  Then,  all  at  once,  without  warning 
or  apology,  she  smiled,  showing  very  even  and  white 
teeth. 

She  smiled.  There  came  to  me  from  the  purple- 
colored  shadows  some  sort  of  deep  perfume,  strange 
to  me.  I  frown  at  the  description  of  such  things  and 
such  emotions,  but  I  swear  that  as  I  sat  there,  a, 
stranger,  not  four  minutes  in  companionship  with 
this  other  stranger,  I  felt  swim  up  around  me  some 
sort  of  amber  shadow,  edged  with  purple—  the 


28       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

shadow,  as  I  figured  it  then,  being  this  perfume, 
curious  and  alluring! 

It  was  wet,  there  in  the  street.  Why  should  I  rebel 
at  this  stealing  charm  of  color  or  fragrance — let 
those  name  it  better  who  can.  At  least  I  sat,  smiling 
to  myself  in  my  purple-amber  shadow,  now  in  no 
very  special  hurry.  And  now  again  she  smiled, 
thoughtfully,  rather  approving  my  own  silence,  as  I 
guessed ;  perhaps  because  it  showed  no  unmanly 
perturbation — my  lack  of  imagination  passing  for 
aplomb. 

At  last  I  could  not,  in  politeness,  keep  this  up 
further. 

"How  may  I  serve  the  Baroness?"  said  I. 

She  started  back  on  the  seat  as  far  as  she  could  go. 

"How  did  you  know?"  she  asked.  "And  who  are 
you?" 

I  laughed.  "I  did  not  know,  and  did  not  guess 
until  almost  as  I  began  to  speak ;  but  if  it  comes  to 
that,  I  might  say  I  am  simply  an  humble  gentleman 
of  Washington  here.  I  might  be  privileged  to  peep 
in  at  ambassadors'  balls — through  the  window?,  at 
least." 

"But  you  were  not  there — you  did  not  see-  me? 
"I  never  saw  you  in  my  life  until  this  very  moment — 
how,  then,  do  you  know  me?  Speak !  At  once!"  Her 
satins  rustled.  I  knew  she  was  tapping  a  f  o<^  rm  the 
carnage  floor. 


THE    BARONESS    HELENA  29' 

"Madam,"  I  answered,  laughing  at  her;  "by  this 
amber  purple  shadow,  with  flecks  of  scarlet  and 
pink;  by  this  perfume  which  weaves  webs  for  me 
here  in  this  carriage,  I  know  you.  The  light  is  poor, 
but  it  is  good  enough  to  show  one  who  can  be  no  one 
\else  but  the  Baroness  von  Ritz." 

I  was  in  the  mood  to  spice  an  adventure  which 
had  gone  thus  far.  Of  course  she  thought  me  crazed1, 
and  drew  back  again  in  the  shadow;  but  when  I 
turned  and  smiled,  she  smiled  in  answer — herself 
somewhat  puzzled. 

"The  Baroness  von  Ritz  can  not  be  disguised,"  I 
said;  "not  even  if  she  wore  her  domino." 

She  looked  down  at  the  little  mask  which  hung 
from  the  silken  cord,  and  flung  it  from  her. 

"Oh,  then,  very  well!"  she  said.  "If  you  know 
who  I  am,  who  are  you,  and  why  do  you  talk  in  this 
absurd  way  with  me,  a  stranger?" 

"And  why,  Madam,  do  you  take  me  up,  a  stran 
ger,  in  this  absurd  way,  at  midnight,  on  the  streets 
of  Washington? — I,  who  am  engaged  on  business 
for  my  chief?" 

She  tapped  again  with  her  foot  on  the  carriage 
floor.  "Tell  me  who  you  are !"  she  said. 

"Once  a  young  planter  from  Maryland  yonder; 
sometime  would-be  lawyer  here  in  Washington.  It 
;s  my  misfortune  not  to  be  so  distinguished  in  fame 
o*  beauty  that  my  name  is  known  by  all ;  so  I  need 


30      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

not  tell  you  my  name  perhaps,  only  assuring  you 
that  I  am  at  your  service  if  I  may  be  useful." 

''Your  name !"  she  again  demanded. 

I  told  her  the  first  one  that  came  to  my  lips — I  do 
not  remember  what.  It  did  not  deceive  her  for  a 
moment. 

"Of  course  that  is  not  your  name,"  she  said;  "be 
cause  it  does  not  fit  you.  You  have  me  still  at  dis 
advantage." 

"And  me,  Madam?  You  are  taking  me  miles  out 
of  my  way.  How  can  I  help  you  ?  Do  you  perhaps 
wish  to  hunt  mushrooms  in  the  Georgetown  woods 
when  morning  comes?  I  wish  that  I  might  join  you, 
but  I  fear—" 

"You  mock  me,"  she  retorted.  "Very  good.  Let 
me  tell  you  it  was  not  your  personal  charm  which 
attracted  me  when  I  saw  you  on  the  pavement! 
'Twas  because  you  were  the  only  man  in  sight." 

I  bowed  my  thanks.  For  a  moment  nothing  was 
heard  save  the  steady  patter  of  hoofs  on  the  ragged 
pavement.  At  length  she  went  on. 

"I  am  alone.  I  have  been  followed.  I  was  fol 
lowed  when  I  called  to  you — by  another  carriage.  I 
asked  help  of  the  first  gentleman  I  saw,  having 
heard  that  Americans  all  are  gentlemen." 

"True,"  said  I ;  "I  do  not  blame  you.  Nfeiiiter  do 
I  blame  the  occupant  of  the  other  carriage  for  fol 
lowing  you." 


THE    BARONESS    HELENA  3* 

"I  pray  you,  leave  aside  such  chatter!"  she  ex« 
claimed. 

"Very  well,  then,  Madam.  Perhaps  the  best  way 
is  for  us  to  be  more  straightforward.  If  I  can  not 
be  of  service  I  beg  you  to  let  me  descend,  for  I  hav? 
business  which  I  must  execute  to-night" 

This,  of  course,  was  but  tentative.  I  did  not  care 
to  tell  her  that  my  business  was  with  herself.  It 
seemed  almost  unbelievable  to  me  that  chance  should 
take  this  turn. 

She  dismissed  this  with  an  impatient  gesture,  and 
continued. 

"See,  I  am  alone,"  she  said.  "Come  with  me. 
Show  me  my  way — I  will  pay — I  will  pay  anything 
in  reason."  Actually  I  saw  her  fumble  at  her  purse, 
and  the  hot  blood  flew  to  my  forehead. 

"What  you  ask  of  me,  Madam,  is  impossible," 
said  I,  with  what  courtesy  I  could  summon.  "You 
oblige  me  now  to  tell  my  real  name.  I  have  told 
you  that  I  am  an  American  gentleman — Mr.  Nicho 
las  Trist.  We  of  this  country  do  not  offer  our  serv 
ices  to  ladies  for  the  sake  of  pay.  But  do  not  be 
troubled  over  any  mistake — it  is  nothing.  Now,  you 
have  perhaps  had  some  little  adventure  in  which 
you  do  not  wish  to  be  discovered.  In  any  case,  you 
ask  me  to  shake  off  that  carriage  which  follows  us. 
If  that  is  all,  Madam,  it  very  easily  ca»  4ae  ar- 
;  ranged." 


32       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

"Hasten,  then,"  she  said.  "I  leave  it  to  you.  I 
was  sure  you  knew  the  city." 

I  turned  and  gazed  back  through  the  rear  window 
of  the  carriage.  True,  there  was  another  vehicle 
following  us.  We  were  by  this  time  nearly  at  the 
end  of  Washington's  limited  pavements.  It  would  be 
simple  after  that.  I  leaned  out  and  gave  our  driver 
some  brief  orders.  We  led  our  chase  across  the  val 
ley  creeks  on  up  the  Georgetown  hills,  and  soon  as 
possible  abandoned  the  last  of  the  pavement,  and 
took  to  the  turf,  where  the  sound  of  our  wheels  was 
dulled.  Rapidly  as  we  could  we  passed  on  up  the 
hill,  until  we  struck  a  side  street  where  there  was  no 
paving.  Into  this  we  whipped  swiftly,  following  the 
flank  of  the  hill,  our  going,  which  was  all  of  earth  or 
soft  turf,  now  well  wetted  by  the  rain.  When  at  last 
we  reached  a  point  near  the  summit  of  the  hill,  I 
stopped  to  listen.  Hearing  nothing,  I  told  the  driver 
to  pull  down  the  hill  by  the  side  street,  and  to  drive 
slowly.  When  we  finally  came  into  our  main  street 
again  at  the  foot  of  the  Georgetown  hills,  not  far 
from  the  little  creek  which  divided  that  settlement 
from  the  main  city,  I  could  hear  nowhere  any  sound 
>f  our  pursuer. 

"Madam,"  said  I,  turning  to  her;  "I  think  we  mav 
safely  say  we  are  alone.  What,  now,  is  you*  wish** 

"Home!"  she  said. 

"And  where  is  home?" 


THE    BARONESS    HELENA  33 

She  looked  at  me  keenly  for  a  time,  as  though  t© 
read  some  thought  which  perhaps  she  saw  suggested 
either  in  the  tone  of  my  voice  or  in  some  glimpse 
she  might  have  caught  of  my  features  as  light  af 
forded.  For  the  moment  she  made  no  answer. 

"Is  it  here?"  suddenly  I  asked  her,  presenting  td 
her  inspection  the  sealed  missive  which  I  bore. 

"I  can  not  see;  it  is  quite  dark,"  she  said  hur« 
riedly. 

"Pardon  me,  then — "  I  fumbled  for  my  case  of 
lucifers,  and  made  a  faint  light  by  which  she  might 
read.  The  flare  of  the  match  lit  up  her  face  per 
fectly,  bringing  out  the  framing  roll  of  thick  dark 
hair,  from  which,  as  a  high  light  in  a  mass  of  shad 
ows,  the  clear  and  yet  strong  features  of  her  face 
showed  plainly.  I  saw  the  long  lashes  drooped  above 
her  dark  eyes,  as  she  bent  over  studiously.  At  first 
the  inscription  gave  her  no  information.  She  pursed 
her  lips  and  shook  her  head. 

"I  do  not  recognize  the  address,"  said  she,  smil 
ing,  as  she  turned  toward  me. 

"Is  it  this  door  on  M  Street,  as  you  go  beyond  this 
other  street?"  I  asked  her.  "Come — think!" 

Then  I  thought  I  saw  the  flush  deepen  on  her 
face,  even  as  the  match  flickered  and  failed. 

I  leaned  out  of  the  door  and  called  to  the 
driver.   "Home,  now,  boy — and  drive  fast!" 

She  made  no  protest 


CHAPTER  V 

ONE  OF  THE  WOMEN  IN  THE  CASE 

/here  is  a  woman  at  the  beginning  of  all  great  things. 

— Lamartine. 

AjUARTER  of  an  hour  later,  we  slowed  down 
on  a  rough  brick  pavement,  which  led  to 
ward  what  then  was  an  outlying  portion  of 
the  town — one  not  precisely  shabby,  but  by  no  means 
fashionable.  There  was  a  single  lamp  stationed  at 
the  mouth  of  the  narrow  little  street.  As  we  ad 
vanced,  I  could  see  outlined  upon  our  right,  just  be 
yond  a  narrow  pavement  of  brick,  a  low  and  not 
more  than  semi-respectable  house,  or  rather,  row  of 
houses;  tenements  for  the  middle  class  or  poor,  I 
might  have  said.  The  neighborhood,  I  knew  from 
my  acquaintance  with  the  city,  was  respectable 
enough,  yet  it  was  remote,  and  occupied  by  none  of 
any  station.  Certainly  it  was  not  to  be  considered  fit 
residence  for  a  woman  such  as  this  who  sat  beside 
me.  I  admit  I  was  puzzled.  The  strange  errand 
of  my  chief  now  assumed  yet  more  mystery,  in 
of  his  forewarnings. 

34 


ONE  OF  THE  WOMEN  IN  THE  CASE     35 

'This  will  do,"  said  she  softly,  at  length.  The 
driver  already  had  pulled  up. 

So,  then,  I  thought,  she  had  been  here  before. 
But  why?  Could  this  indeed  be  her  residence?  Was 
she  incognita  here?  Was  this  indeed  the  covert  em 
bassy  of  England? 

There  was  no  escape  from  the  situation  as  it  lay 
before  me.  I  had  no  time  to  ponder.  Had  the  cir 
cumstances  been  otherwise,  then  in  loyalty  to  Elisa 
beth  I  would  have  handed  my  lady  out,  bowed  her 
farewell  at  her  own  gate,  and  gone  away,  pondering 
only  the  adventures  into  which  the  beckoning  of  a 
white  hand  and  the  rustling  of  a  silken  skirt  betimes 
will  carry  a  man,  if  he  dares  or  cares  to  go.  Now, 
I  might  not  leave.  My  duty  w,as  here.  This  was  my 
message;  here  was  she  for  whom  it  was  intended; 
and  this  was  the  place  which  I  was  to  have  sought 
alone.  I  needed  only  to  remember  that  my  business 
was  not  with  Helena  von  Ritz  the  woman,  beautiful, 
fascinating,  perhaps  dangerous  as  they  said  of  her, 
but  with  the  Baroness  von  Ritz,  in  the  belief  of  my 
chief  the  ally  and  something  more  than  ally  of 
Pakenham,  in  charge  of  England's  fortunes  on  thih 
continent.  I  did  remember  my  errand  and  the  grav 
ity  of  it.  I  did  not  remember  then,  as  I  did  later, 
that  I  was  young. 

I  descended  at  the  edge  of  the  narrow  pavement, 
and  was  about  to  hand  her  out  at  the  step,  but  as  I 


36       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

glanced  down  I  saw  that  the  rain  had  left  a  puddle 
of  mud  between  the  carriage  and  the  walk. 

"Pardon,  Madam,"  I  said;  "allow  me  to  make  a 
light  for  you — the  footing  is  bad." 

I  lighted  another  lucifer,  just  as  she  hesitated  at 
the  step.  She  made  as  though  to  put  out  her  right 
foot,  and  withdrew  it.  Again  she  shifted,  and  ex 
tended  her  left  foot.  I  faintly  saw  proof  that  nature 
had  carried  out  her  scheme  of  symmetry,  and  had 
not  allowed  wrist  and  arm  to  forswear  themselves !  I 
saw  also  that  this  foot  was  clad  in  the  daintiest  of 
white  slippers,  suitable  enough  as  part  of  her  ball 
costume,  as  I  doubted  not  was  this  she  wore.  She 
took  my  hand  without  hesitation,  and  rested  her 
weight  upon  the  step — an  adorable  ankle  now  more 
frankly  revealed.  The  briefness  of  the  lucifers  was 
merciful  or  merciless,  as  you  like. 

"A  wide  step,  Madam;  be  careful/1  I  suggested. 
But  still  she  hesitated. 

A  laugh,  half  of  annoyance,  half  of  amusement, 
broke  from  her  lips.  As  the  light  flickered  down, 
she  made  as  though  to  take  the  step ;  then,  as  luck 
would  have  it,  a  bit  of  her  loose  drapery,  which  was 
made  in  the  wide-skirted  and  much-hooped  fashion 
of  the  time,  caught  at  the  hinge  of  the  carriage  door. 
It  was  a  chance  glance,  and  not  intent  on  my  part, 
but  I  saw  that  her  other  foot  was  stockinged,  but  not 
shod !  , 


ONE  OF  THE  WOMEN  IN  THE  CASE     37 

"I  beg  Madam's  pardon,"  I  said  gravely,  looking 
aside,  "but  she  has  perhaps  not  noticed  that  her 
other  slipper  is  lost  in  the  carriage." 

"Nonsense!"  she  said.  "Allow  me  your  hand 
across  to  the  walk,  please.  It  is  lost,  yes." 

"But  lost — where?"  I  began. 

"In  the  other  carriage!"  she  exclaimed,  and 
laughed  freely. 

Half  hopping,  she  was  across  the  walk,  through 
the  narrow  gate,  and  up  at  the  door  before  I  could 
either  offer  an  arm  or  ask  for  an  explanation.  Some 
whim,  however,  seized  her;  some  feeling  that  in 
fairness  she  ought  to  tell  me  now  part  at  least  of  the 
reason  for  her  summoning  me  to  her  aid. 

"Sir,"  she  said,  even  as  her  hand  reached  up  to 
the  door  knocker;  "I  admit  you  have  acted  as  a  gen 
tleman  should.  I  do  not  know  what  your  message 
may  be,  but  I  doubt  not  it  is  meant  for  me.  Since 
you  have  this  much  claim  on  my  hospitality,  even  at 
this  hour,  I  think  I  must  ask  you  to  step  within. 
There  may  be  some  answer  needed." 

"Madam,"  said  I,  "there  is  an  answer  needed.  I 
am  to  take  back  that  answer.  I  know  that  this  mes 
sage  is  to  the  Baroness  von  Ritz.  I  guess  it  to  be  im 
portant;  and  I  know  you  are  the  Baroness  von  Ritz." 

"Well,  then,"  said  she,  pulling  about  her  half- 
bared  shoulders  the  light  wrap  she  wore;  "let  me  be 
as  free  with  you.  If  I  have  missed  one  shoe,  I  have 


38      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

not  lost  it  wholly.  I  lost  the  slipper  in  a  way  not 
quite  planned  on  the  program.  It  hurt  my  foot.  I 
sought  to  adjust  it  behind  a  curtain.  My  gentleman 
of  Mexico  was  in  wine.  I  fled,  leaving  my  escort, 
and  he  followed.  I  called  to  you.  You  know  the 
rest.  I  am  glad  you  are  less  in  wine,  and  are  more 
a  gentleman." 

"I  do  not  yet  know  my  answer,  Madam." 

"Come!"  she  said;  and  at  once  knocked  upon  the 
door. 

I  shall  not  soon  forget  the  surprise  which  awaited 
me  when  at  last  the  door  swung  open  silently  at  the 
hand  of  a  wrinkled  and  brown  old  serving-woman — 
not  one  of  our  colored  women,  but  of  some  dark  for 
eign  race.  The  faintest  trace  of  surprise  showed  on 
the  old  woman's  face,  but  she  stepped  back  and 
swung  the  door  wide,  standing  submissively,  waiting 
for  orders. 

We  stood  now  facing  what  ought  to  have  been  a 
narrow  and  dingy  little  room  in  a  low  row  of  dingy 
buildings,  each  of  two  stories  and  so  shallow  in  ex 
tent  as  perhaps  not  to  offer  roof  space  to  more  than 
a  half  dozen  rooms.  Instead  of  what  should  have 
been,  however,  there  was  a  wide  hall — wide  as  each 
building  would  have  been  from  front  to  back,  but 
longer  than  a  half  dozen  of  them  would  have  been ! 
I  did  not  know  then,  what  I  learned  later,  that  the 
partitions  throughout  this  entire  row  had  been  re- 


'      ONE  OF  THE  WOMEN  IN  THE  CASE     39 

moved,  the  material  serving  to  fill  up  one  of  the 
houses  at  the  farthest  extremity  of  the  row.  There 
was  thus  offered  a  long  and  narrow  room,  or  series 
of  rooms,  which  now  I  saw  beyond  possibility  of 
doubt  constituted  the  residence  of  this  strange 
woman  whom  chance  had  sent  me  to  address;  and 
whom  still  stranger  chance  had  thrown  in  contact 
with  me  even  before  my  errand  was  begun ! 

She  stood  looking  at  me,  a  smile  flitting  over  her 
features,  her  stockinged  foot  extended,  toe  down, 
serving  to  balance  her  on  her  high-heeled  single 
shoe. 

"Pardon,  sir,"  she  said,  hesitating,  as  she  held  the 
sealed  epistle  in  her  hand.  "You  know  me — per 
haps  you  follow  me — I  do  not  know.  Tell  me,  are 
you  a  spy  of  that  man  Pakenham?" 

Her  words  and  her  tone  startled  me.  I  had  sup 
posed  her  bound  to  Sir  Richard  by  ties  of  a  certain 
sort.  Her  bluntness  and  independence  puzzled  me 
as  much  as  her  splendid  beauty  enraptured  me.  I 
tried  to  forget  both. 

"Madam,  I  am  spy  of  no  man,  unless  I  am  such 
at  order  of  my  chief,  John  Calhoun,  of  the  United! 
States  Senate — perhaps,  if  Madam  pleases,  soon  of 
Mr.  Tyler's  cabinet." 

In  answer,  she  turned,  hobbled  to  a  tiny  mar 
quetry  table,  and  tossed  the  note  down  upon  it, 
unopened.  I  waited  patiently,  looking  about 


40       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

meantime.  I  discovered  that  the  windows  were 
barred  with  narrow  slats  of  iron  within,  although 
covered  with  heavy  draperies  of  amber  silk.  There 
was  a  double  sheet  of  iron  covering  the  door  by 
which  we  had  entered. 

"Your  cage,  Madam?"  I  inquired.  "I  do  not 
blame  England  for  making  it  so  secret  and  strong! 
If  so  lovely  a  prisoner  were  mine,  I  should  double 
the  bars." 

The  swift  answer  to  my  presumption  came  in  the 
flush  of  her  cheek  and  her  bitten  lip.  She  caught 
up  the  key  from  the  table,  and  half  motioned  me  to 
the  door.  But  now  I  smiled  in  turn,  and  pointed  to 
the  unopened  note  on  the  table.  ''You  will  pardon 
me,  Madam,"  I  went  on.  "Surely  it  is  no  disgrace 
to  represent  either  England  or  America.  They  are 
not  at  war.  Why  should  we  be?"  We  gazed  steadily 
at  each  other. 

The  old  servant  had  disappeared  when  at  length 
her  mistress  chose  to  pick  up  my  unregarded  docu 
ment  Deliberately  she  broke  the  seal  and  read.  An 
instant  later,  her  anger  gone,  she  was  laughing  gaily. 

"See,"  said  she,  bubbling  over  with  her  mirth;  "P 
pick  up  a  stranger,  who  should  say  good-by  at  my 
curb;  my  apartments  are  forced;  and  this  is  what 
this  stranger  asks:  that  I  shall  go  with  him,  to 
night,  alone,  and  otherwise  unattended,  to  see  a  man, 
perhaps  high  in  your  government,  but  a  stranger  to 


ONE  OF  THE  WOMEN  IN  THE  CASE     41 

me,  at  his  own  rooms — alone!  Oh,  la!  la!  Surely 
these  Americans  hold  me  high !" 

"Assuredly  we  do,  Madam,"  I  answered.  "Will  it 
please  you  to  go  in  your  own  carriage,  or  shall  I 
return  with  one  for  you  ?" 

She  put  her  hands  behind  her  back,  holding  in 
them  the  opened  message  from  my  chief.  "I  am 
tired.  I  am  bored.  Your  impudence  amuses  me; 
and  your  errand  is  not  your  fault  Come,  sit  down. 
You  have  been  good  to  me.  Before  you  go,  I  shall 
have  some  refreshment  brought  for  you." 

I  felt  a  sudden  call  upon  my  resources  as  I  found 
myself  in  this  singular  situation.  Here,  indeed,  more 
easily  reached  than  I  had  dared  hope,  was  the 
woman  in  the  case.  But  only  half  of  my  errand,  the 
Musier  half,  was  donfc. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS 
A  woman's  counsel  brought  us  first  to  woe. — Dryden. 

11T  IT   TAIT!"  she  said.     "We  shall  have 
% /%  /      dies."   She  clapped  her  hands  sharply, 
T     T        and  again  there  entered  the  silent  old 
serving- woman,  who,  obedient  to  a  gesture,  proceed 
ed  to  light  additional  candles  in  the  prism  stands  and 
sconces.     The  apartment  was  now  distinct  in  all  its 
details  under  this  additional  flood  of  light.     De 
cently  as  I  might  I  looked  about     I  was  forced  to 
stifle  the  exclamation  of  surprise  which  rose  to  my 
lips. 

We  were  plain  folk  enough  in  Washington  at  that 
time.  The  ceremonious  days  of  our  first  presidents 
had  passed  for  the  democratic  time  of  Jefferson  and 
Jackson;  and  even  under  Mr.  Van  Buren  there  had 
been  little  change  from  the  simplicity  which  was 
somewhat  our  boast.  Washington  itself  was  at  that 
time  scarcely  more  than  an  overgrown  hamlet,  not 
in  the  least  to  be  compared  to  the  cosmopolitan  cen- 

42 


THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS      43 

ters  which  made  the  capitals  of  the  Old  World. 
Formality  and  stateliness  of  a  certain  sort  we  had, 
but  of  luxury  we  knew  little.  There  was  at  that  time, 
as  I  well  knew,  no  state  apartment  in  the  city  which 
in  sheer  splendor  could  for  a  moment  compare  with 
this  secret  abode  of  a  woman  practically  unknown. 
Here  certainly  was  European  luxury  transferred  to 
our  shores.  This  in  simple  Washington,  with  its 
vast  white  unfinished  capitol,  its  piecemeal  miles  of 
mixed  residences,  boarding-houses,  hotels,  restau 
rants,  and  hovels !  I  fancied  stern  Andrew  Jackson 
or  plain  John  Calhoun  here! 

The  furniture  I  discovered  to  be  exquisite  in  de 
tail,  of  rosewood  and  mahogany,  with  many  brass 
chasings  and  carvings,  after  the  fashion  of  the  Em 
pire,  and  here  and  there  florid  ornamentation 
following  that  of  the  court  of  the  earlier  Louis.  Fan 
ciful  little  clocks  with  carved  scrolls  stood  about; 
Cupid  tapestries  had  replaced  the  original  tawdry 
coverings  of  these  common  walls,  and  what  had  once 
been  a  dingy  fireplace  was  now  faced  with  embossed 
tiles  never  made  in  America.  There  were  paintings 
in  oil  here  and  there,  done  by  master  hands,  as  one 
could  tell.  The  curtained  windows  spoke  eloquently 
of  secrecy.  Here  and  there  a  divan  and  couch 
showed  elaborate  care  in  comfort.  Beyond  a  lace- 
screened  grille  I  saw  an  alcove — doubtless  cut 
through  the  original  partition  wall  between  two  of 


44       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

these  humble  houses— and  within  this  stood  a  high 
tester  bed,  its  heavy  mahogany  posts  beautifully 
carved,  the  couch  itself  piled  deep  with  foundations 
of  I  know  not  what  of  down  and  spread  most  daint 
ily  with  a  coverlid  of  amber  satin,  whose  edges 
fringed  out  almost  to  the  floor.  At  the  other  ex 
tremity,  screened  off  as  in  a  distinct  apartment,  there 
stood  a  smaller  couch,  a  Napoleon  bed,  with  carved 
ends,  furnished  more  simply  but  with  equal  richness. 
Everywhere  was  the  air  not  only  of  comfort,  but  of 
ease  and  luxury,  elegance  and  sensuousness  contend 
ing.  I  needed  no  lesson  to  tell  me  that  this  was  not 
an  ordinary  apartment,  nor  occupied  by  an  ordinary- 
owner. 

One  resented  the  liberties  England  took  in  estab 
lishing  this  manner  of  menage  in  our  simple  city, 
and  arrogantly  taking  for  granted  our  ignorance  re 
garding  it ;  but  none  the  less  one  was  forced  to  com 
mend  the  thoroughness  shown.  The  ceilings,  of 
course,  remained  low,  but  there  was  visible  no  trace 
of  the  original  architecture,  so  cunningly  had  the  in 
terior  been  treated.  As  I  have  said,  the  dividing 
partitions  had  all  been  removed,  so  that  the  long 
interior  practically  was  open,  save  as  the  apartments 
were  separated  by  curtains  or  grilles.  The  floors 
were  carpeted  thick  and  deep.  Silence  reigned  here. 
There  remained  no  trace  of  the  clumsy  comfort 
which  had  sufficed  the  early  builder.  Here  was  no 


THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS      45 

longer  a  series  of  modest  homes,  but  a  boudoir  which 
might  have  been  the  gilded  cage  of  some  favorite  of 
an  ancient  court.  The  breath  and  flavor  of  this  sus 
picion  floated  in  every  drapery,  swam  in  the  faint 
perfume  which  filled  the  place.  My  first  impression 
was  that  of  surprise;  my  second,  as  I  have  said,  a 
feeling  of  resentment  at  the  presumption  which  in 
stalled  all  this  in  our  capital  of  Washington. 

I  presume  my  thought  may  have  been  reflected  in 
some  manner  in  my  face.  I  heard  a  gentle  laugh, 
and  turned  about.  She  sat  there  in  a  great  carved 
chair,  smiling,  her  white  arms  stretched  out  on  the 
rails,  the  fingers  just  gently  curving.  There  was  no 
apology  for  her  situation,  no  trace  of  alarm  or  shame 
or  unreadiness.  It  was  quite  obvious  she  was  merely 
amused.  I  was  in  no  way  ready  to  ratify  the  rumors 
I  had  heard  regarding  her. 

She  had  thrown  back  over  the  rail  of  the  chair  the 
rich  cloak  which  covered  her  in  the  carriage,  and 
sat  now  in  the  full  light,  in  the  splendor  of  satin  and 
lace  and  gems,  her  arms  bare,  her  throat  and  shoul 
ders  white  and  bare,  her  figure  recognized  gra 
ciously  by  every  line  of  a  superb  gowning  such  as 
we  had  not  yet  learned  on  this  side  of  the  sea.  Never 
had  I  seen,  and  never  since  have  I  seen,  a  more 
splendid  instance  of  what  beauty  of  woman  may  be. 

She  did  not  speak  at  first,  but  sat  and  smiled, 
studying,  I  presume,  to  find  what  stuff  I  was  made 


46      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

of.  Seeing  this,  I  pulled  myself  together  and  pn>» 
ceeded  briskly  to  my  business. 

"My  employer  will  find  me  late,  I  fear,  my  deaf 
baroness,"  I  began. 

"Better  late  than  wholly  unsuccessful,"  she  re 
joined,  still  smiling.  "Tell  me,  my  friend,  suppose 
you  had  come  hither  and  knocked  at  my  door?" 

"Perhaps  I  might  not  have  been  so  clumsy,"  I 
'  essayed. 

"Confess  it!"  she  smiled.  "Had  you  come  here 
and  seen  the  exterior  only,  you  would  have  felt 
yourself  part  of  a  great  mistake.  You  would  have 
gone  away." 

"Perhaps  not,"  I  argued.  "I  have  much  confidence 
in  my  chief's  acquaintance  with  his  own  purposes 
and  his  own  facts.  Yet  I  confess  I  should  not  have 
sought  madam  the  baroness  in  this  neighborhood.  If 
England  provides  us  so  beautiful  a  picture,  why 
could  she  not  afford  a  frame  more  suitable?  Why  is 
England  so  secret  with  us  ?" 

She  only  smiled,  showing  two  rows  of  exceedingly 
even  white  teeth.  She  was  perfect  mistress  of  her* 
self.  In  years  she  was  not  my  equal,  yet  I  could  see 
that  at  the  time  I  did  scarcely  more  than  amuse  her. 

"Be  seated,  pray,"  she  said  at  last  "Let  us  tall 
over  this  matter." 

Obedient  to  her  gesture,  I  dropped  into  a  chair 
opposite  to  her,  she  herself  not  varying  her  posture 


THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS      47 

and  still  regarding  me  with  the  laugh  in  her  half- 
closed  eyes. 

"What  do  you  think  of  my  little  place?"  she  asked 
finally. 

"Two  things,  Madam,"  said  I,  half  sternly.  "If  it 
Delonged  to  a  man,  and  to  a  minister  plenipotentiary, 
I  should  not  approve  it.  If  it  belonged  to  a  lady  of 
means  and  a  desire  to  see  the  lands  of  this  little 
world,  I  should  approve  it  very  much." 

She  looked  at  me  with  eyes  slightly  narrowed,  but 
no  trace  of  perturbation  crossed  her  face.  I  saw  it 
was  no  ordinary  woman  with  whom  we  had  to  do. 

"But,"  I  went  on,  "in  any  case  and  at  all  events,  I 
should  say  that  the  bird  confined  in  such  a  cage, 
where  secrecy  is  so  imperative,  would  at  times  find 
weariness — would,  in  fact,  wish  escape  to  other  em 
ployment.  You,  Madam" — I  looked  at  her  directly 
— "are  a  woman  of  so  much  intellect  that  you  could 
not  be  content  merely  to  live." 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  would  not  be  content  merely 
to  live." 

"Precisely.  Therefore,  since  tc  vnake  life  worth 
che  living  there  must  be  occasionally  a  trifle  of  spice, 
a  bit  of  adventure,  either  for  man  or  woman,  I  sug 
gest  to  you,  as  something  offering  amusement,  this 
little  journey  ^vith  me  to-night  to  meet  my  chief. 
You  have  his  message.  I  am  his  messenger,  and,  be 
lieve  me,  quite  at  your  service  in  any  way  you  may 


48       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

suggest.  Let  us  be  frank.  If  you  are  agent,  so  am  jf. 
See;  I  have  come  into  your  camp.  Dare  you  not 
come  into  ours?  Come;  it  is  an  adventure  to  see  a 
tall,  thin  old  man  in  a  dressing-gown  and  a  red 
woolen  nightcap.  So  you  will  find  my  chief ;  and  in 
apartments  much  different  from  these." 

She  took  up  the  missive  with  its  broken  seal.  "So* 
your  chief,  as  you  call  him,  asks  me  to  come  to  him, 
at  midnight,  with  you,  a  stranger?" 

"Do  you  not  believe  in  charms  and  in  luck,  in  evil 
and  good  fortune,  Madam?"  I  asked  her.  "Now,  it 
is  well  to  be  lucky.  In  ordinary  circumstances,  as 
you  say,  I  could  not  have  got  past  yonder  door.  Yet 
here  I  am.  What  does  it  augur,  Madam?" 

"But  it  is  night!" 

"Precisely.  Could  you  go  to  the  office  of  a 
United  States  senator  and  possible  cabinet  minister 
in  broad  daylight  and  that  fact  not  be  known  ?  Could 
he  come  to  your  apartments  in  broad  daylight  and 
that  fact  not  be  known?  What  would  'that  man 
Pakenham'  suspect  in  either  case?  Believe  me,  my 
master  is  wise.  I  do  not  know  his  reason,  but  he 
knows  it,  and  he  has  planned  best  to  gain  his  pur 
pose,  whatever  it  may  be.  Reason  must  teach  you* 
Madam,  that  night,  this  night,  this  hour,  is  the  only 
time  in  which  this  visit  could  be  made.  Naturally, 
it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  come  here.  If  you 
go  to  him,  he  will — ah,  he  will  reverence  you,  as  I 


THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS      49 

do,  Madam.  Great  necessity  sets  aside  conventions, 
sets  aside  everything.  Come,  then  !" 

But  still  she  only  sat  and  smiled  at  me.  I  felt  that 
purple  and  amber  glow,  the  emanation  of  her  per 
sonality,  of  her  senses,  creeping  around  me  again  as 
she  leaned  forward  finally,  her  parted  red-bowed 
lips  again  disclosing  her  delicate  white  teeth.  I  saw 
4;he  little  heave  of  her  bosom,  whether  in  laughter  or 
emotion  I  could  not  tell.  I  was  young.  Resenting 
the  spell  which  I  felt  coming  upon  me,  all  I  could  do 
was  to  reiterate  my  demand  for  haste.  She  was  not 
in  the  least  impressed  by  this. 

"Come!"  she  said.  "I  am  pleased  with  these 
Americans.  Yes,  I  am  not  displeased  with  this  little 
adventure." 

I  rose  impatiently,  and  walked  apart  in  the  room. 
"You  can  not  evade  me,  Madam,  so  easily  as  you  did 
the  Mexican  gentleman  who  followed  you.  You 
have  him  in  the  net  also?  Is  not  the  net  full 
enough  ?" 

"Never!"  she  said,  her  head  swaying  slowly  from 
side  to  side;  her  face  inscrutable.  "Am  I  not  a 
.woman?  Ah,  am  I  not?" 

"Madam,"  said  I,  whirling  upon  her,  "let  me,  at 
:east,  alone.  I  am  too  small  game  for  you.  I  am  but 
a  messenger.  Time  passes.  Let  us  arrive  at  our 
business." 

"What  would  you  do  if  I  refused  to  go  with  you  ?** 


50      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

she  asked,  still  smiling  at  me.  She  was  waiting  fof 
the  spell  of  these  surroundings,  the  spirit  of  this 
place,  to  do  their  work  with  me,  perhaps ;  was  will 
ing  to  take  her  time  with  charm  of  eye  and  arm  and 
hair  and  curved  fingers,  which  did  not  openly  invite 
and  did  not  covertly  repel.  But  I  saw  that  her  atti 
tude  toward  me  held  no  more  than  that  of  bird  of 
prey  and  some  little  creature  well  within  its  power. 
It  made  me  angry  to  be  so  rated. 

"You  ask  me  what  I  should  do?"  I  retorted  sav 
agely.  "I  shall  tell  you  first  what  I  will  do  if  you 
continue  your  refusal.  I  will  take  you  with  me, 
and  so  keep  my  agreement  with  my  chief.  Keep 
away  from  the  bell  rope!  Remain  silent!  Do  not 
move !  You  should  go  if  I  had  to  carry  you  there  in 
a  sack — because  that  is  my  errand !" 

"Oh,  listen  at  him  threaten!"  she  laughed  still. 
"And  he  despises  my  poor  little  castle  here  in  the 
side  street,  where  half  the  time  I  am  so  lonely !  What 
would  Monsieur  do  if  Monsieur  were  in  my  place — • 
and  if  I  were  in  Monsieur's  place?  But,  bah!  you 
would  not  have  me  following  you  in  the  first  hour  we, 
met,  boy !" 

I  flushed  again  hotly  at  this  last  word.  "Madam 
may  discontinue  the  thought  of  my  boyhood ;  I  am\ 
older  than  she.  But  if  you  ask  me  what  I  would  do 
with  a  woman  if  I  followed  her,  or  if  she  followed 
jne,  then  I  shall  tell  you.  If  I  owned  this  place  and 


f  THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS   5* 

all  in  it,  I  would  tear  down  every  picture  from  these 
walls,  every  silken  cover  from  yonder  couches!  I, 
would  rip  out  these  walls  ,and  put  back  the  ones  that 
once  were  here !  You,  Madam,  should  be  taken  out 
of  luxury  and  daintiness — " 

"Go  on!"  She  clapped  her  hands,  for  the  first 
time  kindling,  and  dropping  her  annoying  air  of 
patronizing  me.  "Go  on !  I  like  you  now.  Tell  me 
what  Americans  do  with  women  that  they  love!  I 
have  heard  they  are  savages." 

"A  house  of  logs  far  out  in  the  countries  that  1 
know  would  do  for  you,  Madam !"  I  went  on  hotly. 
"You  should  forget  the  touch  of  silk  and  lace.  No 
neighbor  you  should  know  until  I  was  willing.  Any 
man  who  followed  you  should  meet  me.  Until  you  • 
loved  me  all  you  could,  and  said  so,  and  proved  it,  I 
would  wring  your  neck  with  my  hands,  if  necessary, 
until  you  loved  me!" 

"Excellent!  What  then?" 

"Then,  Madam  the  Baroness,  I  would  in  turn 
build  you  a  palace,  one  of  logs,  and  would  make  you 
a  most  excellent  couch  of  the  husks  of  corn.  Yon 
should  cook  at  my  fireplace,  and  for  me!" 

She  smiled  slowly  past  me,  at  me.  "Pray  be  seat 
ed,"  she  said.  "You  interest  me." 

"It  is  late,"  I  reiterated.  "Come!  Must  I  do  some 
of  these  things — force  you  into  obedience — carry 
you  away  in  a  sack?  My  master  can  not  wait." 


52       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"Don  Yturrio  of  Mexico,  on  the  other  hand,"  she 
mused,  "promised  me  not  violence,  but  more  jewels. 
Idiot!" 

"Indeed!"  I  rejoined,  in  contempt  "An  Amer 
ican  savage  would  give  you  but  one  gown,  and  that 
of  your  own  weave;  you  could  make  it  up  as  you 
liked.  But  come,  now;  I  have  no  more  time  to  lose." 

"Ah,  also,  idiot!"  she  murmured.  "Do  you  not 
see  that  I  must  reclothe  myself  before  I  could  go 
with  you — that  is  to  say,  if  I  choose  to  go  with  you  ? 
Now,  as  I  was  saying,  my  ardent  Mexican  promises 
thus  and  so.  My  lord  of  England — ah,  well,  they 
may  be  pardoned.  Suppose  I  might  listen  to  such 
suits — might  there  not  be  some  life  for  me — some 
life  with  events?  On  the  other  hand,  what  of  inter 
est  could  America  offer?" 

"I  have  told  you  what  life  America  could  give 
you." 

"I  imagined  men  were  but  men,  wherever  found," 
she  went  on;  "but  what  you  say  interests  me,  I  de 
clare  to  you  .again.  A  woman  is  a  woman,  too,  I 
fancy.  She  always  wants  one  thing — to  be  all  the 
world  to  one  man." 

"Quite  true,"  I  answered.  "Better  that  than  part 
of  the  world  to  one — or  two?  And  the  opposite  of  it 
is  yet  more  true.  When  a  woman  is  all  the  world  to 
a  man,  she  despises  him." 

"But  yes,  I  should  like  that  experience  of  being  a 


THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS      53 

cook  in  a  cabin,  and  being  bruised  and  broken  and 
choked !"  She  smiled,  lazily  extending  her  flawless 
arms  and  looking  down  at  them,  at  all  of  her  splen 
did  figure,  as  though  in  interested  examination.  "I 
am  alone  so  much — so  bored!"  she  went  on.  "And 
Sir  Richard  Pakenham  is  so  very,  very  fat  Ah; 
God !  You  can  not  guess  how  fat  he  is.  But  you,  you 
are  not  fat."  She  looked  me  over  critically,  to  my 
great  uneasiness. 

"All  the  more  reason  for  doing  as  I  have  sug 
gested,  Madam;  for  Mr.  Calhoun  is  not  even  so  fat 
as  I  am.  This  little  interview  with  my  chief,  I  doubt 
not,  will  prove  of  interest.  Indeed" — I  went  on  se 
riously  and  intently — "I  venture  to  say  this  much 
without  presuming  on  my  station :  the  talk  which 
you  will  have  with  my  chief  to-night  will  show  you 
things  you  have  never  known,  give  you  an  interest 
in  living  which  perhaps  you  have  not  felt.  If  I  am 
not  mistaken,  you  will  find  much  in  common  between 
you  and  my  master.  I  speak  not  to  the  agent  of 
England,  but  to  the  lady  Helena  von  Ritz." 

"He  is  old,"  she  went  on.  "He  is  very  old.  His 
face  is  thin  and  bloodless  and  fleshless.  He  is  old.n 

"Madam,"  I  said,  "his  mind  is  young,  his  purpose 
young,  his  ambition  young;  and  his  country  is 
young.  Is  not  the  youth  of  all  these  things  still  your 
own?" 

She  made  no  answer,  but  sat  musing,  drumming 


'U      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

lightly  on  the  chair  arm.  I  was  reaching  for  her 
cloak.  Then  at  once  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  stock 
inged  foot,  the  toe  of  which  slightly  protruded  from 
'beneath  her  ball  gown.  She  saw  the  glance  ana 
laughed. 

"Poor  feet,"  she  said.  "Ah,  mes  pauvres  pieds  la. 
You  would  like  to  see  them  bruised  by  the  hard  go 
ing  in  some  heathen  country  ?  See  you  have  no  car 
riage,  and  mine  is  gone.  I  have  not  even  a  pair  of 
shoes.  Go  look  under  the  bed  beyond." 

I  obeyed  her  gladly  enough.  Under  the  fringe 
of  the  satin  counterpane  I  found  a  box  of  boots,  slip 
pers,  all  manner  of  footwear,  daintily  and  neatly  ar 
ranged.  Taking  out  a  pair  to  my  fancy,  I  carried 
them  out  and  knelt  before  her. 

"Then,  Madam,"  said  I,  "since  you  insist  on  this, 
I  shall  choose.  America  is  not  Europe.  Our  feet 
here  have  rougher  going  and  must  be  shod  for  it 
Allow  me!" 

Without  the  least  hesitation  in  the  world,  or  the 
least  immodesty,  she  half  protruded  the  foot  which 
still  retained  its  slipper.  As  I  removed  this  latter, 
through  some  gay  impulse,  whose  nature  I  did  not 
pause  to  analyze,  I  half  mechanically  thrust  it  into 
the  side  pocket  of  my  coat. 

"This  shall  be  security,"  said  I,  "that  what  you 
speak  with  my  master  shall  be  the  truth,  the  whole 
truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth." 


THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS       55 

There  was  a  curious  deeper  red  in  her  cheek.  I 
saw  her  bosom  beat  the  faster  rhythm. 

"Quite  agreed !"  she  answered.  But  she  motioned 
me  away,  taking  the  stout  boot  in  her  own  hand  and 
turning  aside  as  she  fastened  it  She  looked  ove* 
her  shoulder  at  me  now  and  again  while  thus  en 
gaged. 

"Tell  me,"  she  said  gently,  "what  security  do  7 
have?  You  come,  by  my  invitation,  it  is  true,  but 
none  the  less  an  intrusion,  into  my  apartments.  You 
demand  of  me  something  which  no  man  has  a  right 
to  demand.  Because  I  am  disposed  to  be  gracious, 
and  because  I  am  much  disposed  to  be  ennuye,  and 
because  Mr.  Pakenham  is  fat,  I  am  willing  to  take 
into  consideration  what  you  ask.  I  have  never  seen 
a  thin  gentleman  in  a  woolen  nightcap,  and  I  am 
curious.  But  no  gentleman  plays  games  with  ladies 
in  which  the  dice  <*re  loaded  for  himself.  Come, 
what  security  shall  /  have?" 

I  did  not  pretend  to  understand  her.  Perhaps, 
alter  all,  we  all  had  been  misinformed  regarding 
her  ?  I  could  not  tell.  But  her  spirit  of  camaraderie, 
her  good  fellowship,  her  courage,  quite  aside  from 
her  personal  charm,  had  now  begun  to  impress  me, 

"Madam,"  said  I,  feeling  in  my  pocket;  "no 
heathen  has  much  of  this  world's  goods.  All  my  pos 
sessions  would  not  furnish  one  of  these  rooms.  I  can 
not  offer  gems,  as  does  Senor  Yturrio — but,  would 


$6      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

this  be  of  service — u  ntil  to-morrow  ?  That  will  leave 
him  and  me  with  a  slipper  each.  It  is  with  reluc 
tance  I  pledge  to  return  mine!" 

By  chance  I  had  felt  in  my  pocket  a  little  object 
which  I  had  placed  there  that  very  day  for  quite  an 
other  purpose.  It  was  only  a  little  trinket  of  Indian 
manufacture,  which  I  had  intended  to  give  Elisabeth 
that  very  evening;  a  sort  of  cloak  clasp,  originally 
made  as  an  Indian  blanket  fastening,  with  two  round 
discs  ground  out  of  shells  and  connected  by  beaded 
thongs.  I  had  got  it  among  the  tribes  of  the  far 
upper  plains,  who  doubtless  obtained  the  shells,  in 
their  strange  savage  barter,  in  some  way  from  the 
tribes  of  Florida  or  Texas,  who  sometimes  trafficked 
in  shells  which  found  their  way  as  far  north  as  the 
Saskatchewan.  The  trinket  was  curious,  though  of 
small  value.  The  baroness  looked  at  it  with  interest. 

"How  it  reminds  me  of  this  heathen  country  !"  she 
said.  "Is  this  all  that  your  art  can  do  in  jewelry? 
Yet  it  is  beautiful.  Come,  will  you  not  give  it  to 
me?" 

"Until  to-morrow,  Madam." 

"No  longer?" 

"I  can  not  promise  it  longer.  I  must,  unfortu 
nately,  have  it  back  when  I  send  a  messenger — I 
shall  hardly  come  myself,  Madam." 

"Ah !"  she  scoffed.  "Then  it  belongs  to  another 
woman  ?" 


THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS       57 

"Yes,  it  is  promised  to  another." 

"Then  this  is  to  be  the  last  time  we  meet?" 

"I  do  not  doubt  it" 

"Are  you  not  sorry?" 

"Naturally,  Madam!" 

She  sighed,  laughing  as  she  did  so.  Yet  I  could 
not  evade  seeing  the  curious  color  on  her  cheek,  the 
rise  and  fall  of  the  laces  over  her  bosom.  Utterly 
self-possessed,  satisfied  with  life  as  it  had  come  to 
her,  without  illusion  as  to  life,  absorbed  in  the  great 
game  of  living  and  adventuring — so  I  should  have 
described  her.  Then  why  should  her  heart  beat  one 
stroke  the  faster  now?  I  dismissed  that  question, 
and  rebuked  my  eyes,  which  I  found  continually 
turning  toward  her. 

She  motioned  to  a  little  table  near  by.  "Put  the 
slipper  there,"  she  said.  "Your  little  neck  clasp, 
also."  Again  I  obeyed  her. 

"Stand  there !"  she  said,  motioning  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  table;  and  I  did  so.  "Now,"  said  she, 
looking  at  me  gravely,  "I  am  going  with  you  to  see 
this  man  whom  you  call  your  chief — this  old  and 
ugly  man,  thin  and  weazened,  with  no  blood  in  him, 
and  a  woolen  nightcap  which  is  perhaps  red.  I  shall 
not  tell  you  whether  I  go  of  my  own  wish  or  because 
you  wish  it  But  I  need  soberly  to  tell  you  this: 
secrecy  is  as  necessary  for  me  as  for  you.  The  favor 
may  mean  as  much  on  one  side  as  on  the  other — I 


$8       FIFTY-FOUR   FUK1T   UK  FIGHT 

shall  not  tell  you  why.  But  we  shall  play  fair  until, 
as  you  say,  perhaps  to-morrow.  After  that — " 

"After  that,  on  guard !" 

"Very  well,  on  guard !  Suppose  I  do  not  like  this 
other  woman  ?" 

"Madam,  you  could  not  help  it.  All  the  world 
loves  her." 

"Do  you?" 

"With  my  life." 

"How  devoted !  Very  well,  on  guard,  then !" 

She  took  up  the  Indian  bauble,  turning  to  examine 
it  at  the  nearest  candle  sconce,  even  as  I  thrust  the 
dainty  little  slipper  of  white  satin  again  into  the 
pocket  of  my  coat.  I  was  uncomfortable.  I  wished 
this  talk  of  Elisabeth  had  not  come  up.  I  liked  very 
little  to  leave  Elisabeth's  property  in  another'*; 
hands.  Dissatisfied,  I  turned  from  the  table,  not 
noticing  for  more  than  an  instant  a  little  crumpled 
roll  of  paper  which,  as  I  was  vaguely  conscious,  now 
appeared  on  its  smooth  marquetry  top. 

"But  see,"  she  said;  "you  are  just  like  a  man, 
after  all,  and  an  unmarried  man  at  that !  I  can  not 
go  through  the  streets  in  this  costume.  Excuse  me 
for  a  moment" 

She  was  off  on  the  instant  into  the  alcove  where 
the  great  amber-covered  bed  stood.  She  drew  the 
curtains.  I  heard  her  humming  to  herself  as  she 
passed  to  and  fro,  saw  the  flare  of  a  light  as  it  rose 


THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS       59 

beyond.  Once  or  twice  she  thrust  a  laughing  face 
between  the  curtains,  held  tight  together  with  her 
hands,  as  she  asked  me  some  question,  mocking  me, 
still  amused — yet  still,  as  I  thought,  more  enigmatic 
than  before. 

"Madam,"  I  said  at  last,  "I  would  I  might  dwell 
here  for  ever,  but — you  are  slow !  The  night  passes. 
Come.  My  master  will  be  waiting.  He  is  ill ;  I  fear 
he  can  not  sleep.  I  know  how  intent  he  is  on  meet 
ing  you.  I  beg  you  to  oblige  an  old,  a  dying  man !" 

"And  you,  Monsieur,"  she  mocked  at  me  from  be 
yond  the  curtain,  "are  intent  only  on  getting  rid  of 
me.  Are  you  not  adventurer  enough  to  forget  that 
other  woman  for  one  night?" 

In  her  hands — those  of  a  mysterious  foreign 
woman — I  had  placed  this  little  trinket  which  I  had 
got  among  the  western  tribes  for  Elisabeth — a 
woman  of  my  own  people — the  woman  to  whom  my 
pledge  had  been  given,  not  for  return  on  any  mor 
row.  I  made  no  answer,  excepting  to  walk  up  and 
down  the  floor. 

At  last  she  came  out  from  between  the  curtains, 
garbed  more  suitably  for  the  errand  which  was  now 
before  us.  A  long,  dark  cloak  covered  her  shoul 
ders.  On  her  head  there  rested  a  dainty  up-flared 
bonnet,  whose  jetted  edges  shone  in  the  candle  light 
as  she  moved  toward  me.  She  was  exquisite  in 
every  detail,  beautiful  as  mind  of  man  could  wish ; 


6o      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

that  much  was  sure,  must  be  admitted  by  any  man* 

I  dared  not  look  at  her.  I  called  to  mind  the  taunt  of 

those  old  men,  that  I  was  young !    There  was  in  my 

oul  v,ast  relief  that  she  was  not  delaying  me  here 

onger  in  this  place  of  spells — that  in  this  almost 

providential  way  my  errand  had  met  success. 

She  paused  for  an  instant,  drawing  on  a  pair  of 
the  short  gloves  of  the  mode  then  correct.  "Do  you 
know  why  I  am  to  go  on  this  heathen  errand?'*  she 
demanded.  I  shook  my  head. 

"Mr.  Calhoun  wishes  to  know  whether  he  shall  go 
to  the  cabinet  of  your  man  Tyler  over  there  in  that 
barn  you  call  your  White  House.  I  suppose  Mr. 
Calhoun  wishes  to  know  how  he  can  serve  Mr. 
Tyler?" 

I  laughed  at  this.  "Serve  him!"  I  exclaimed. 
"Rather  say  lead  him,  tell  him,  command  him !" 

"Yes,"  she  nodded.  I  began  to  see  another  and 
graver  side  of  her  nature.  "Yes,  it  is  of  course 
Texas." 

I  did  not  see  fit  to  make  answer  to  this. 

"If  your  master,  as  you  call  him,  takes  the  port« 
folio  with  Tyler,  it  is  to  annex  Texas,"  she  repeated 
sharply.  "Is  not  that  true  ?" 

Still  I  would  not  answer.    "Come !"  I  said. 

"And  he  asks  me  to  come  to  him  so  that  he  may 
decide—" 

This  awoke  me.   "No  man  decides  for  John 


THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS   6r 

houn,  Madam,"  I  said.     "You  may  advance  facts, 
but  he  will  decide."    Still  she  went  on. 

"And  Texas  not  annexed  is  a  menace.  Without 
her,  you  heathen  people  would  not  present  a  solid 
front,  would  you  ?" 

"Madam  has  had  much  to  do  with  affairs  of  state/ 
I  said. 

She  went  on  as  though  I  had  not  spoken  : 

"And  if  you  were  divided  in  your  southern  sec 
tion,  England  would  have  all  the  greater  chance. 
England,  you  know,  says  she  wishes  slavery  abol 
ished.  She  says  that — " 

"England  says  many  things!"  I  ventured. 

"The  hypocrite  of  the  nations!"  flashed  out  this 
singular  woman  at  me  suddenly.  "As  though 
diplomacy  need  be  hypocrisy!  Thus,  to-night  Sir 
Richard  of  England  forgets  his  place,  his  protesta 
tions.  He  does  not  even  know  that  Mexico  has  for 
gotten  its  duty  also.  Sir,  you  were  not  at  our  little 
ball,  so  you  could  not  see  that  very  fat  Sir  Richard 
paying  his  bored  devoirs  to  Dona  Lucrezia!  So  I 
Hm  left  alone,  and  would  be  bored,  but  for  you.  In 
return — a  slight  jest  on  Sir  Richard  to-night! — I 
will  teach  him  that  no  fat  gentleman  should  pay  even 
bored  attentions  to  a  lady  who  soon  will  be  fat,  when 
his  obvious  duty  should  call  him  otherwhere!  Bah 
'tis  as  though  I  myself  were  fat;  which  is  not  true." 

"You  go  too  deep  for  me,  Madam,"  I  said.     "I 


02       FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

am  but  a  simple  messenger."  At  the  same  time,  I 
saw  how  admirably  things  were  shaping  for  us  all. 
A  woman's  jealousy  was  with  us,  and  so  a  woman's 
whim! 

"There  you  have  the  measure  of  England's  sin 
cerity,"  she  went  on,  with  contempt  "England  is 
selfish,  that  is  all.  Do  you  not  suppose  I  have  some 
thing  to  do  besides  feeding  a  canary?  To  read,  to 
study — that  is  my  pleasure.  I  know  your  politics 
here  in  America.  Suppose  you  invade  Texas,  as  the 
threat  is,  with  troops  of  the  United  States,  before 
Texas  is  a  member  of  the  Union?  Does  that  not 
mean  you  are  again  at  war  with  Mexico  ?  And  does 
that  not  mean  that  you  are  also  at  war  with  Eng 
land?  Come,  do  you  not  know  some  of  those 
things?" 

,  "With  my  hand  on  my  heart,  Madam,"  I  asserted 
solemnly,  "all  I  know  is  that  you  must  go  to  see  my 
master.  Calhoun  wants  you.  America  needs  you. 
I  beg  you  to  do  what  kindness  you  may  to  the 
heathen." 

"Et  moi?" 

"And  you?"  I  answered.  "You  shall  have  such 
reward  as  you  have  never  dreamed  in  all  your  life." 

"How  do  you  mean  ?" 

"I  doubt  not  the  reward  for  a  soul  which  is  as 
keen  and  able  as  your  heart  is  warm,  Madam.  Come, 
I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  you  think,  perhaps.  Nor  are 


THE  BOUDOIR  OF  THE  BARONESS      63 

you  a  fool.  You  are  a  great  woman,  a  wonderful 
woman,  with  head  and  heart  both,  Madam,  as  well 
as  beauty  such  as  I  had  never  dreamed.  You  are  a 
strange  woman,  Madam.  You  are  a  genius,  Madam, 
if  you  please.  So,  I  say,  you  are  capable  of  a  re 
ward,  and  a  great  one.  You  may  find  it  in  the  grati 
tude  of  a  people." 

"What  could  this  country  give  more  than  Mexicr 
or  England?"  She  smiled  quizzically. 

"Much  more,  Madam!  Your  reward  shall  be  in 
the  later  thought  of  many  homes — homes  built  of 
logs,  with  dingy  fireplaces  and  couches  of  husks  in 
them — far  out,  all  across  this  continent,  housing 
many  people,  many  happy  citizens,  men  who  will 
make  their  own  laws,  and  enforce  them,  man  and 
man  alike!  Madam>  it  is  the  spirit  of  democracy 
which  calls  on  you  to-night !  It  is  not  any  political 
party,  nor  the  representative  of  one.  It  is  not  Mr. 
Calhoun ;  it  is  not  I.  Mr.  Calhoun  only  puts  before 
you  the  summons  of — " 

"Of  what?" 

"Of  that  spirit  of  democracy." 

She  stood,  one  hand  ungloved,  a  finger  at  hei 
lips,  her  eyes  glowing.  "I  am  glad  you  came,"  she 
said.  "On  the  whole,  I  am  also  glad  I  came  upor 
my  foolish  errand  here  to  America." 

"Madam,"  said  I,  my  hand  at  the  fastening  of  the 
door,  "we  have  exchanged  pledges.  Now  we  ex- 


64      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

change  places.  It  is  you  who  are  the  messenger,  not 
myself.  There  is  a  message  in  your  hands.  I  know 
not  whether  you  ever  served  a  monarchy.  Come, 
you  shall  see  that  our  republic  has  neither  secrets 
nor  hypocrisies." 

On  the  instant  she  was  not  shrewd  and  tactful 
woman  of  the  world,  not  student,  but  once  more 
coquette  and  woman  of  impulse.  She  looked  at  me 
with  mockery  and  invitation  alike  in  her  great  dark 
eyes,  even  as  I  threw  down  the  chain  at  the  door  and 
opened  it  wide  for  her  to  pass. 

"Is  that  my  only  reward?"  she  asked,  smiling  as 
she  fumbled  at  a  glove. 

In  reply,  I  bent  and  kissed  the  fingers  of  her  un 
gloved  hand.  They  were  so  warm  and  tender  that  I 
had  been  different  than  I  was  had  I  not  felt  the 
blood  tingle  in  all  my  body  in  the  impulse  of  the 
moment  to  do  more  than  kiss  her  fingers. 

Had  I  done  so — had  I  not  thought  of  Elisabeth — 
then,  as  in  my  heart  I  still  believe,  the  flag  of  Eng 
land  to-day  would  rule  Oregon  and  the  Pacific;  antf 
it  would  float  to-day  along  the  Rio  Grande;  and  it 
would  menace  a  divided  North  and  South,  instead 
of  respecting  a  strong  and  indivisible  Union  whicb 
owns  one  flag  and  dreads  none  in  the  world. 


CHAPTER   VII 

REGARDING  ELISABETH 

With#»it  f/nrnan  the  two  extremities  of  this  life  would  b« 
destitute  oi  succor  and  the  middle  would  be  devoid  of  pleas 
ure. — Proverb. 

IN  some  forgotten  garret  of  this  country,  as  I  do 
not  doubt,  yellowed  with  age,  stained  and  in* 
distinguishable,  lost  among  uncared-for  relics 
of  another  day,  there  may  be  records  of  that  inter- 
view  between  two  strange  personalities,  John  Cal* 
koun  and  Helena  von  Ritz,  in  the  arrangement  ol 
which  I  played  the  part  above  described.  I  was  not 
At  that  time  privileged  to  have  much  more  than  a 
guess  at  the  nature  of  the  interview.  Indeed,  other 
things  now  occupied  my  mind.  I  was  very  much  in 
iove  with  Elisabeth  Churchill. 

Of  these  matters  I  need  to  make  some  mention. 
My  father's  plantation  was  one  of  the  old  ones  in, 
Maryland.     That  of  the  Churchills  lay  across  a  low' 
range  of  mountains  and  in  another  county  from  us, 
but  our  families   had   long  been   friends.      I   had 
known  Elisabeth  from  the  time  she  was  a  tall,  slim 
girl,  boon  companion  ever  to  her  father,  old  Daniel 

65 


66      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

Churchill ;  for  her  mother  she  had  lost  when  she  was 
still  young.  The  Churchills  maintained  a  city  estab 
lishment  in  the  environs  of  Washington  itself, 
although  that  was  not  much  removed  from  their 
plantation  in  the  old  State  of  Maryland.  Elmhurst, 
this  Washington  estate  was  called,  and  it  was  well 
known  there,  with  its  straight  road  approaching  and 
its  great  trees  and  its  wide-doored  halls — whereby 
the  road  itself  seemed  to  run  straight  through  the 
house  and  appear  beyond — and  its  tall  white  pillars 
and  hospitable  galleries,  now  in  the  springtime 
enclosed  in  green.  I  need  not  state  that  now,  having 
finished  the  business  of  the  day,  or,  rather,  of  the 
night,  Elmhurst,  home  of  Elisabeth,  was  my  imme 
diate  Mecca. 

I  had  clad  myself  as  well  as  I  could  in  the  fashion 
of  my  time,  and  flattered  myself,  as  I  looked  in  my 
little  mirror,  that  I  made  none  such  bad  figure  of  a 
man.  I  was  tall  enough,  and  straight,  thin  with 
long  hours  afoot  or  in  the  saddle,  bronzed  to  a  good 
color,  and  if  health  did  not  show  on  my  face,  at  least 
1 1  felt  it  myself  in  the  lightness  of  my  step,  in  the 
contentedness  of  my  heart  with  all  of  life,  in  my 
general  assurance  that  all  in  the  world  meant  well 
toward  me  and  that  everything  in  the  world  would 
do  well  by  me.  We  shall  see  what  license  there  was 
for  this. 

As  to  Elisabeth  Churchill,  it  might  have  been  in^ 


REGARDING    ELISABETH  67 

line  with  a  Maryland  custom  had  she  generally  been 
known  as  Betty;  but  Betty  she  never  was  called, 
although  that  diminutive  was  applied  to  her  aunt, 
Jennings,  twice  as  large  as  she,  after  whom  she  had 
been  named.  Betty  implies  a  snub  nose;  Elisabeth's 
was  clean-cut  and  straight.  Betty  runs  for  a  saucy 
mouth  and  a  short  one;  Elisabeth's  was  red  and 
curved,  but  firm  and  wide  enough  for  strength  and 
charity  as  well.  Betty  spells  round  eyes,  with  brows 
arched  above  them  as  though  in  query  and  curiosity ; 
the  eyes  of  Elisabeth  were  long,  her  brows  long  and 
straight  and  delicately  fine.  A  Betty  might  even 
;have  red  hair;  Elisabeth's  was  brown  in  most  lights, 
and  so  liquid  smooth  that  almost  I  was  disposed  to 
call  it  dense  rather  than  thick.  Betty  would  seem  to 
indicate  a  nature  impulsive,  gay,  and  free  from  care; 
on  the  other  hand,  it  was  to  be  said  of  Elisabeth  that 
she  was  logical  beyond  her  kind — a  trait  which  she 
got  from  her  mother,  a  daughter  of  old  Judge  Henry 
Gooch,  of  our  Superior  Court.  Yet,  disposed  as  she 
always  was  to  be  logical  in  her  conclusions,  the  great 
characteristic  of  Elisabeth  was  serenity,  considera 
tion  and  charity. 

With  all  this,  there  appeared  sometimes  at  the 
surface  of  Elisabeth's  nature  that  fire  and  lightness 
and  impulsiveness  which  she  got  from  her  father, 
Mr.  Daniel  Churchill.  Whether  she  was  wholly 
reserved  and  reasonable,  or  wholly  warm  and  im- 


68      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

pulsive,  I,  long  as  I  had  known  and  loved  her,  never 
was  quite  sure.  Something  held  me  away,  some* 
thing  called  me  forward;  so  that  I  was  always 
baffled,  and  yet  always  eager,  God  wot.  I  suppose 
this  is  the  way  of  women.  At  times  I  have  been  im 
patient  with  it,  knowing  my  own  mind  well  enough. 

At  least  now,  in  my  tight-strapped  trousers  and 
my  long  blue  coat  and  my  deep  embroidered  waist 
coat  and  my  high  stock,  my  shining  boots  and  my 
tall  beaver,  I  made  my  way  on  my  well-groomed 
horse  up  to  the  gates  of  old  Elmhurst;  and  as  I  rode 
I  pondered  and  I  dreamed. 

But  Miss  Elisabeth  was  not  at  home,  it  seemed 
Her  father,  Mr.  Daniel  Churchill,  rather  portly  and 
now  just  a  trifle  red  of  face,  met  me  instead.  It  was 
not  an  encounter  for  which  I  devoutly  wished,  but 
one  which  I  knew  it  was  the  right  of  both  of  us  to 
expect  ere  long.  Seeing  the  occasion  propitious,  I 
plunged  at  once  in  medias  res.  Part  of  the  time  ex- 
planatory,  again  apologetic,  and  yet  again,  I  trust 
assertive,  although  -always  blundering  and  red  and 
awkward,  I  told  the  father  of  my  intended  of  my 
own  wishes,  my  prospects  and  my  plans. 

He  listened  to  me  gravely  and,  it  seemed  to  me, 
with  none  of  that  enthusiasm  which  I  would  have 
welcomed.  As  to  my  family,  he  knew  enough.  As 
to  my  prospects,  he  questioned  me.  My  record  was 
not  unfamiliar  to  him.  So,  gaining  confidence  at 


REGARDING    ELISABETH  69 

last  under  the  insistence  of  what  I  knew  were  worthy 
motives,  and  which  certainly  were  irresistible  of 
themselves,  so  far  as  I  was  concerned,  I  asked  him 
if  we  might  not  soon  make  an  end  of  this,  and,  tak 
ing  chances  as  they  were,  allow  my  wedding  with 
Elisabeth  to  take  place  at  no  very  distant  date. 

"Why,  as  to  that,  of  course  I  do  not  know  what 
my  girl  will  say/'  went  on  Mr.  Daniel  Churchill, 
pursing  up  his  lips.  He  looked  not  wholly  lovable 
to  me,  as  he  sat  in  his  big  chair.  I  wondered  that 
he  should  be  father  of  so  fair  a  human  being  as 
Elisabeth. 

"Oh,  of  course — that,"  I  answered;  "Miss  Elisa 
beth  and  I—" 

"The  skeesicks !"  he  exclaimed.  "I  thought  she 
told  me  everything." 

"I  think  Miss  Elisabeth  tells  no  one  quite  every 
thing,"  I  ventured.  "I  confess  she  has  kept  me 
almost  as  much  in  the  dark  as  yourself,  sir.  But  I 
only  wanted  to  ask  if,  after  I  have  seen  her  to-day, 
and  if  I  should  gain  her  consent  to  an  early  day,  you 
would  not  waive  any  objections  on  your  own  part 
and  allow  the  matter  to  go  forward  as  soon  as  pos 
sible?" 

In  answer  to  this  he  arose  from  his  chair  and 
stood  looking  out  of  the  window,  his  back  turned  to 
me.  I  could  not  call  his  reception  of  my  suggestion 
venthusiastic ;  but  at  last  he  turned. 


70      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"I  presume  that  our  two  families  might  send  you 
young  people  a  sack  of  meal  or  a  side  of  bacon  now 
.and  then,  as  far  as  that  is  concerned,"  he  said. 

I  could  not  call  this  speech  joyous. 

"There  are  said  to  be  risks  in  any  union,  sir,"  I 
ventured  to  say.  "I  admit  I  do  not  follow  you  in 
contemplating  any  risk  whatever.  If  either  you  or 
your  daughter  doubts  my  loyalty  or  affection,  then  I 
should  say  certainly  it  were  wise  to  end  all  this; 
but — "  and  I  fancied  I  straightened  perceptibly — "I 
think  that  might  perhaps  be  left  to  Miss  Elisabeth 
herself." 

After  all,  Mr.  Dan  Churchill  was  obliged  to  yield, 
as  fathers  have  been  obliged  from  the  beginning  of 
the  world.  At  last  he  told  me  I  might  take  my  fate 
in  my  own  hands  and  go  my  way. 

Trust  the  instinct  of  lovers  to  bring  them  to 
gether!  I  was  quite  confident  that  at  that  hour  I 
should  find  Elisabeth  and  her  aunt  in  the  big  East 
Room  at  the  president's  reception,  the  former  look 
ing  on  with  her  uncompromising  eyes  at  the  little 
pageant  which  on  reception  days  regularly  went  for 
ward  there. 

My  conclusion  was  correct  I  found  a  boy  to  hold 
tny  horse  in  front  of  Gautier's  cafe.  Then  I  hastened 
off  across  the  intervening  blocks  and  through  the 
grounds  of  the  White  House,  in  which  presently, 
having  edged  through  the  throng  in  the  ante-cham- 


REGARDING    ELISABETH  71 

bers,  I  found  myself  in  that  inane  procession  of  in 
dividuals  who  passed  by  in  order,  each  to  receive  the 
limp  handshake,  the  mechanical  bow  and  the  per 
functory  smile  of  President  Tyler — rather  a  tall, 
slender-limbed,  active  man,  and  of  very  decent  pres 
ence,  although  his  thin,  shrunken  cheeks  and  his 
cold  blue-gray  eye  left  little  quality  of  magnetism 
in  his  personality. 

It  was  not  new  to  me,  of  course,  this  pageant, 
although  it  never  lacked  of  interest.  There  were  in 
the  throng  representatives  of  all  America  as  it  was 
then,  a  strange,  crude  blending  of  refinement  and 
vulgarity,  of  ease  and  poverty,  of  luxury  and  thrift. 
We  had  there  merchants  from  Philadelphia  and 
New  York,  politicians  from  canny  New  England 
and  not  less  canny  Pennsylvania.  At  times  there 
came  from  the  Old  World  men  representative  of  an 
easier  and  more  opulent  life,  who  did  not  always 
trouble  to  suppress  their  smiles  at  us.  Moving  among 
these  were  ladies  from  every  state  of  our  Union, 
picturesque  enough  in  their  wide  flowered  skirts  and 
their  flaring  bonnets  and  their  silken  mitts,  each 
rivalling  the  other  in  the  elegance  of  her  mien,  and 
all  unconsciously  outdone  in  charm,  perhaps,  by 
some  demure  Quakeress  in  white  and  dove  color, 
herself  looking  askance  on  all  this  form  and  cere 
mony,  yet  unwilling  to  leave  the  nation's  capital 
without  shaking  the  hand  of  the  nation's  chief.  Add 


72       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

to  these,  gaunt,  black-haired  frontiersmen  from 
across  the  Alleghanies;  politicians  from  the  South, 
clean-shaven,  pompous,  immaculately  clad;  uneasy 
tradesmen  from  this  or  the  other  corner  of  their 
commonwealth.  A  motley  throng,  indeed! 

A  certain  air  of  gloom  at  this  time  hung  over 
official  Washington,  for  the  minds  of  all  were  still 
oppressed  by  the  memory  of  that  fatal  accident — the 
explosion  of  the  great  cannon  "Peacemaker"  on 
bo,ard  the  war  vessel  Princeton — which  had  killed 
Mr.  Upshur,  our  secretary  of  state,  with  others,  and 
had,  at  one  blow,  come  so  near  to  depriving  this 
government  of  its  head  and  his  official  family;  the 
number  of  prominent  lives  thus  ended  or  endangered 
being  appalling  to  contemplate.  It  was  this  acci 
dent  which  had  called  Mr.  Calhoun  forward  at  a 
national  juncture  of  the  most  extreme  delicacy  and 
the  utmost  importance.  In  spite  of  the  general 
mourning,  however,  the  informal  receptions  at  the 
White  House  were  not  wholly  discontinued,  and  the 
administration,  unsettled  as  it  was,  and  fronted  by 
the  gravest  of  diplomatic  problems,  made  such  show 
of  dignity  and  even  cheerfulness  as  it  might. 

I  considered  it  my  duty  to  pass  in  the  long  pro 
cession  and  to  shake  the  hand  of  Mr.  Tyler.  That 
done,  I  gazed  about  the  great  room,  carefully  scan 
ning  the  different  little  groups  which  were  accus 
tomed  to  form  .after  the  ceremonial  part  of  the  visit 


REGARDING    ELISABETH  73 

was  over.  I  saw  many  whom  I  knew.  I  forgot 
them;  for  in  a  far  corner,  where  a  flood  of  light 
came  through  the  trailing  vines  that  shielded  the 
outer  window,  mv  anxious  eyes  discovered  the  ob- 
,ject  of  my  quest — Elisabeth. 

It  seemed  to  me  I  had  never  known  her  so  fair  as 
she  was  that  morning  in  the  great  East  Room  of  the 
White  House.  Elisabeth  was  rather  taller  than  the 
average  woman,  and  of  that  splendid  southern 
figure,  slender  but  strong,  which  makes  perhaps  the 
best  representative  of  our  American  beauty.  She 
was  very  bravely  arrayed  to-day  in  her  best  pink- 
flowered  lawn,  made  wide  and  full,  as  was  the  cus 
tom  of  the  time,  but  not  so  clumsily  gathered  at  the 
waist  as  some,  and  so  serving  not  wholly  to  conceal 
her  natural  comeliness  of  figure.  Her  bonnet  she 
had  removed.  I  could  see  the  sunlight  on  the  ripples 
of  her  brown  hair,  and  the  shadows  which  lay  above 
her  eyes  as  she  turned  to  face  me,  and  the  slow  pink 
which  crept  into  her  cheeks. 

Dignified  always,  and  reserved,  was  Elisabeth 
Churchill.  But  now  I  hope  it  was  not  wholly  con 
ceit  which  led  me  to  feel  that  perhaps  the  warmth, 
the  glow  of  the  air,  caught  while  riding  under  the 
open  sky,  the  sight  of  the  many  budding  roses  of 
our  city,  the  scent  of  the  blossoms  which  even  then 
came  through  the  lattice — the  meeting  even  with 
myself,  so  lately  returned — something  at  least  of  this 


74      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

had  caused  an  awakening  in  her  girl's  heart.  Some 
thing,  I  say,  I  do  not  know  what,  gave  her  greeting 
to  me  more  warmth  than  was  usual  with  her.  My 
own  heart,  eager  enough  to  break  bounds,  answered 
in  kind.  We  stood — blushing  like  children  as  our 
hands  touched — forgotten  in  that  assemblage  of 
Washington's  pomp  and  circumstance. 

"How  do  you  do?"  was  all  I  could  find  to  say. 
And  "How  do  you  do?"  was  all  I  could  catch  for 
answer,  although  I  saw,  in  a  fleeting  way,  a  glimpse 
of  a  dimple  hid  in  Elisabeth's  cheek.  She  never 
showed  it  save  when  pleased.  I  have  never  seen  a 
dimple  like  that  of  Elisabeth's. 

Absorbed,  we  almost  forgot  Aunt  Betty  Jennings 
— stout,  radiant,  snub-nosed,  arch-browed  and  curi 
ous,  Elisabeth's  chaperon.  On  the  whole,  I  was 
glad  Aunt  Betty  Jennings  was  there.  When  a  sol 
dier  approaches  a  point  of  danger,  he  does  not  de 
spise  the  cover  of  natural  objects.  Aunt  Betty 
appeared  to  me  simply  as  a  natural  object  at  the 
time.  I  sought  her  shelter. 

"Aunt  Betty,"  said  I,  as  I  took  her  hand;  "Aunt 
Betty,  have  we  told  you,  Elisabeth  and  I  ?" 

I  saw  Elisabeth  straighten  in  perplexity,  doubt 
or  horror,  but  I  went  on. 

"Yes,  Elisabeth  and  I—" 

"You  dear  children  !"  gurgled  Aunt  Betty. 

"Congratulate  us  both!"  I  demanded,  and  I  put 


REGARDING    ELISABETH  75 

Elisabeth's  hand,  covered  with  my  own,  into  the 
short  and  chubby  fingers  of  that  estimable  lady. 
•  Whenever  Elisabeth  attempted  to  open  her  lips  I 
opened  mine  before,  and  I  so  overwhelmed  dear 
Aunt  Betty  Jennings  with  protestations  of  my  re- 
,  gard  for  her,  my  interest  in  her  family,  her  other 
nieces,  her  chickens,  her  kittens,  her  home — I  so 
quieted  all  her  questions  by  assertions  and  demands 
and  exclamations,  and  declarations  that  Mr.  Daniel 
Churchill  had  given  his  consent,  that  I  swear  for  the 
moment  even  Elisabeth  believed  that  what  I  had 
said  was  indeed  true.  At  least,  I  can  testify  she 
made  no  formal  denial,  although  the  dimple  was 
now  frightened  out  of  sight. 

Admirable  Aunt  Betty  Jennings!  She  forestalled 
every  assertion  I  made,  herself  bubbling  and  blush 
ing  in  sheer  delight.  Nor  did  she  lack  in  charity. 
Tapping  me  with  her  fan  lightly,  she  exclaimed : 
"You  rogue!  I  know  that  you  two  want  to  be 
alone;  that  is  what  you  want.  Now  I  am  going 
away — just  down  the  room.  You  will  ride  home 
with  us  after  a  time,  I  am  sure?" 

Adorable  Aunt  Betty  Jennings!  Elisabeth  and  I 
looked  at  her  comfortable  back  for  some  moments 
before  I  turned,  laughing,  to  look  Elisabeth  in  the 
eyes. 

"You  had  no  right — "  began  she,  her  face  grow 
ing  pink. 


76      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"Every  right!"  said  I,  and  managed  to  find  a 
place  for  our  two  hands  under  cover  of  the  wide 
flounces  of  her  figured  lawn  as  we  stood,  both  blush 
ing.  "I  have  every  right.  I  have  truly  just  seen 
your  father.  I  have  just  come  from  him." 

She  looked  at  me  intently,  glowingly,  happily. 

"I  could  not  wait  any  longer/'  I  went  on.  "Within 
&  week  I  am  going  to  have  an  office  of  my  own.  Let 
us  wait  no  longer.  I  have  waited  long  enough. 
Now—" 

I  babbled  on.  and  she  listened.  It  was  strange 
place  enough  for  a  betrothal,  but  there  at  least  I  said 
the  words  which  bound  me;  and  in  the  look  Elisa 
beth  gave  me  I  saw  her  answer.  Her  eyes  were 
wide  and  straight  and  solemn.  She  did  not  smile. 

As  we  stood,  with  small  opportunity  and  perhaps 
less  inclination  for  much  conversation,  my  eyes 
chanced  to  turn  toward  the  main  entrance  door  of 
the  East  Room.  I  saw,  pushing  through,  a  certain 
page,  a  young  boy  of  good  family,  who  was  em 
ployed  by  Mr.  Calhoun  as  messenger.  He  knew  me 
perfectly  well,  as  he  did  almost  every  one  else  in 
Washington,  and  with  precocious  intelligence  his 
gaze  picked  me  out  in  all  that  throng. 

"Is  that  for  me?"  I  asked,  as  he  extended  his^ 
missive. 

"Yes,"  he  nodded.  "Mr.  Calhoun  told  me  to  find 
you  and  to  give  you  this  at  once." 


REGARDING    ELISABETH  77 

I  turned  to  Elisabeth.  "If  you  will  pardon  me?" 
I  said.  She  made  way  for  me  to  pass  to  a  curtained 
window,  and  there,  turning  my  back  and  using  such 
secrecy  as  I  could,  I  broke  the  seal. 

The  message  was  brief.  To  be  equally  brief  I 
imay  say  simply  that  it  asked  me  to  be  ready  to  start 
for  Canada  that  night  on  business  connected  with 
the  Department  of  State!  Of  reasons  or  explana 
tions  it  gave  none. 

I  turned  to  Elisabeth  and  held  out  the  message 
from  my  chief.  She  looked  at  it.  Her  eyes  wid 
ened.  "Nicholas!"  she  exclaimed. 

I  looked  at  her  in  silence  for  a  moment.  "Elisa 
beth,"  I  said  at  last,  "I  have  been  gone  on  this  sort 
of  business  long  enough.  What  do  you  say  to  this? 
Shall  I  decline  to  go?  It  means  my  resignation  at 
once." 

I  hesitated.  The  heart  of  the  nation  and  the 
nation's  life  were  about  me.  Our  state,  such  as  it 
was,  lay  there  in  that  room,  and  with  it  our  prob 
lems,  our  duties,  our  dangers.  I  knew,  better  than 
most,  that  there  were  real  dangers  before  this  nation 
at  that  very  hour.  I  was  a  lover,  yet  none  the  less  I 
was  an  American.  At  once  a  sudden  plan  came  into 
my  mind. 

"Elisabeth,"  said  I,  turning  to  her  swiftly,  "I  will 
agree  to  nothing  which  will  send  me  away  from  you 
again.  Listen,  then — "  I  raised  a  hand  as  she 


;8       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

would  have  spoken.  "Go  home  with  your  Aunt 
Betty  as  soon  as  you  can.  Tell  your  father  that  to 
night  at  six  I  shall  be  there.  Be  ready !" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  panted.  I  saw  her 
throat  flutter. 

"I  mean  that  we  must  be  married  to-night  before 
I  go.  Before  eight  o'clock  I  must  be  on  the  train." 

"When  will  you  be  back?"  she  whispered. 

"How  can  I  tell?  When  I  go,  my  wife  shall  wait 
there  at  Elmhurst,  instead  of  my  sweetheart." 

She  turned  away  from  me,  contemplative.  She, 
too,  was  young.  Ardor  appealed  to  her.  Life  stood 
before  her,  beckoning,  as  to  me.  What  could  the 
girl  do  or  say? 

I  placed  her  hand  on  my  arm.  We  started  toward 
the  door,  intending  to  pick  up  Aunt  Jennings  on  our 
way.  As  v;e  advanced,  a  group  before  us  broke 
apart.  I  stood  aside  to  make  way  for  a  gentleman 
whom  I  did  not  recognize.  On  his  arm  there  leaned 
a  woman,  a  beautiful  woman,  clad  in  a  costume  of 
flounced  and  rippling  velvet  of  a  royal  blue  which 
made  her  the  most  striking  figure  in  the  great  room. 
Hers  was  a  personality  not  easily  to  be  overlooked 
in  any  company,  her  face  one  not  readily  to  be 
equalled.  It  was  the  Baroness  Helena  von  Ritz ! 

We  met  face  to  face.  I  presume  it  would  have 
been  too  much  to  ask  even  of  her  to  suppress  the 
sudden  flash  of  recognition  which  she  showed.  At 


REGARDING   ELISABETH  79 

first  she  did  not  see  that  I  was  accompanied.  She 
bent  to  me,  as  though  to  adjust  her  gown,  and,  with 
out  a  change  in  the  expression  of  her  face,  spoke  to 
me  in  an  undertone  no  one  else  could  hear. 

"Wait!"  she  murmured.  "There  is  to  be  a  meet* 
ing — "  She  had  time  for  no  more  as  she  swept  by. 

Alas,  that  mere  moments  should  spell  ruin  as  well 
as  happiness !  This  new  woman  whom  I  had  wooed 
and  found,  this  new  Elisabeth  whose  hand  lay  on 
my  arm,  saw  what  no  one  else  would  have  seen — 
that  little  flash  of  recognition  on  the  face  of  Helena 
von  Ritz !  She  heard  a  whisper  pass.  Moreover, 
with  a  woman's  uncanny  facility  in  detail,  she  took 
in  every  item  of  the  other's  costume.  For  myself,  I 
could  see  nothing  of  that  costume  now  save  one  ob 
ject — a  barbaric  brooch  of  double  shells  and  beaded 
fastenings,  which  clasped  the  light  laces  at  her 
throat 

The  baroness  had  perhaps  slept  as  little  as  I  the 
night  before.  If  I  showed  the  ravages  of  loss  of 
sleep  no  more  than  she,  I  was  fortunate.  She  was 
radiant,  as  she  passed  forward  with  her  escort  for 
place  in  the  line  which  had  not  yet  dwindled  away. 

"You  seem  to  know  that  lady,"  said  Elisabeth  to 
me  gently. 

"Did  I  so  seem?"  I  answered.  "It  is  professional 
of  all  to  smile  in  the  East  Room  at  a  reception/' 
said  I. 


So      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"Then  you  do  not  know  the  lady  ?" 

"Indeed,  no.  Why  should  I,  my  dear  girl?"  Ah, 
how  hot  my  face  was ! 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  Elisabeth.  "Only,  in  a  way 
she  resembles  a  certain  lady  of  whom  we  have  heard 
rather  more  than  enough  here  in  Washington." 

"Put  aside  silly  gossip,  Elisabeth/'  I  said.  "And, 
please,  do  not  quarrel  with  me,  now  that  I  am  so 
happy.  To-night — " 

"Nicholas,"  she  said,  leaning  just  a  little  forward 
and  locking  her  hands  more  deeply  in  my  arm, 
"don't  you  know  you  were  telling  me  one  time  about 
the  little  brooch  you  were  going  to  bring  me — an 
Indian  thing — you  said  it  should  be  my — my  wed 
ding  present?  Don't  you  remember  that?  Now,  I 
was  thinking — " 

I  stood  blushing  red  as  though  detected  in  the  ut 
most  villainy.  And  the  girl  at  my  side  saw  that 
written  on  my  face  which  now,  within  the  very 
moment,  it  had  become  her  right  to  question!  I 
turned  to  her  suddenly. 

"Elisabeth,"  said  I,  "you  shall  have  your  little 
brooch  to-night,  if  you  will  promise  me  now  to  be 
ready  and  waiting  for  me  at  six.  I  will  have  the 
license." 

It  seemed  to  me  that  this  new  self  of  Elisabeth's — • 
warmer,  yielding,  adorable — was  slowly  going  away 
,f rom  me  again,  and  that  her  old  self,  none  the  less 


REGARDING    ELISABETH  81 

sweet,  none  the  less  alluring,  but  more  logical  and 
questioning,  had  taken  its  old  place  again.  She  put 
both  her  hands  on  my  arm  now  and  looked  me  fairly 
in  the  face,  where  the  color  still  proclaimed  some 
sort  of  guilt  on  my  part,  although  my  heart  was 
clean  and  innocent  as  hers. 

"Nicholas,"  she  said,  "come  to-night.  Bring  me 
my  little  jewel — and  bring — " 

"The  minister!  If  I  do  that,  Elisabeth,  you  will 
marry  me  then?" 

"Yes !"  she  whispered  softly. 

Amid  all  the  din  and  babble  of  that  motley  throng 
I  heard  the  word,  low  as  it  was.  I  have  never  heard 
a  voice  like  Elisabeth's. 

An  instant  later,  I  knew  not  quite  how,  her  hand 
was  away  from  my  arm,  in  that  of  Aunt  Betty,  and 
they  were  passing  toward  the  main  door,  leaving  me 
standing  with  joy  and  doubt  mingled  in  my  mind. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

MR.    CALHOUN   ACCEPTS 

A  woman's  tongue  is  her  sword,  that  she  never  lets  rust 

— Madam  Necker. 

I  STRUGGLED  among  three  courses.     The  im 
pulses  of  my  heart,  joined  to  some  prescience  of 
trouble,  bade  me  to  follow  Elisabeth.    My  duty 
ordered  me  to  hasten  to  Mr.  Calhoun.     My  interest 
demanded  that  I  should  tarry,  for  I  was  sure  that 
the  Baroness  von  Ritz  would  make  no  merely  idle 
request  in  these  circumstances.     Hesitating  thus,  I 
lost  sight  of  her  in  the  throng.     So  I  concluded  I 
,  would  obey  the  mandate  of  duty,  and  turned  toward 
the  great  doors.      Indeed,   I   was  well  toward  the 
steps  which  led  out  into  the  grounds,  when  all  at 
once  two  elements  of  my  problem  resolved  them 
selves  into  one.    I  saw  the  tall  figure  of  Mr.  Calhoun1 
himself  coming  up  the  walk  toward  me. 

"Ah,"  said  he  briefly,  "then  my  message  found^ 
you?" 

"I  was  starting  for  you  this  moment,  sir,"  I  re 
plied. 

82 


MR.    CALHOUN    ACCEPTS  83 

"Wait  for  a  moment.  I  counted  on  finding  you 
here.  Matters  have  changed." 

I  turned  with  him  and  we  entered  again  the  East 
Room,  where  Mr.  Tyler  still  prolonged  the  official 
greeting  of  the  curious,  the  obsequious,  or  the  banal 
persons  who  passed.  Mr.  Calhoun  stood  apart  for  a 
time,  watching  the  progress  of  this  purely  American 
function.  It  was  some  time  ere  the  groups  thinned. 
This  latter  fact  usually  would  have  ended  th£  re 
ception,  since  it  is  not  etiquette  to  suppose  that  the 
president  can  lack  an  audience;  but  to-day  Mr. 
Tyler  lingered.  As  last  through  the  thinning  throng 
he  caught  sight  of  the  distinctive  figure  of  Mr.  Cal 
houn.  For  the  first  time  his  own  face  assumed  a 
natural  expression.  He  stopped  the  line  for  an  in 
stant,  and  with  a  raised  hand  beckoned  to  my  chief. 

At  this  we  dropped  in  at  the  tail  of  the  line,  Mr. 
Calhoun  in  passing  grasping  almost  as  many  hands 
as  Mr.  Tyler.  When  at  length  we  reached  the 
president's  position,  the  latter  greeted  him  and 
added  a  whispered  word.  An  instant  later  he  turned 
abruptly,  ending  the  reception  with  a  deep  bow,  and 
retired  into  the  room  from  which  he  had  earlier 
emerged. 

Mr.  Calhoun  turned  now  to  me  with  a  request 
to  follow  him,  and  we  passed  through  the  door 
where  the  president  had  vanished.  Directed  by 
attendants,  we  were  presently  ushered  into  yet  an- 


84       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

other  room,  which  at  that  time  served  the  president 
as  his  cabinet  room,  a  place  for  meeting  persons  of 
distinction  who  called  upon  business. 

As  we  entered  I  saw  that  it  was  already  occu 
pied.  Mr.  Tyler  was  grasping  the  hand  of  a  portly 
personage,  whom  I  knew  to  be  none  other  than  Mr. 
Pakenham.  So  much  might  have  been  expected. 
What  was  not  to  have  been  expected  was  the  pres 
ence  of  another — none  less  than  the  Baroness  von 
Ritz !  For  this  latter  there  was  no  precedent,  no 
conceivable  explanation  save  some  exigent  emer 
gency. 

So  we  were  apparently  to  understand  that  my  lady 
was  here  as  open  friend  of  England !  Of  course,  I 
needed  no  word  from  Mr.  Calhoun  to  remind  me 
that  we  must  seem  ignorant  of  this  lady,  of  her  char 
acter,  and  of  her  reputed  relations  with  the  British 
Foreign  Office. 

"I  pray  you  be  seated,  Mr.  Pakenham,"  said  Mr. 
Tyler,  and  he  gestured  also  to  us  others  to  take 
chairs  near  his  table.  Mr.  Pakenham,  in  rather  a 
lofty  fashion,  it  seemed  to  me,  obeyed  the  polite  re- 
^uest,  but  scarcely  had  seated  himself  ere  he  again 
rose  with  an  important  clearing  of  his  throat.  He 
was  one  who  never  relished  the  democratic  title  of 
"Mr."  accorded  him  by  Mr.  Tyler,  whose  plain  and 
simple  ways,  not  much  different  now  from  those  ^ 


MR.    CALHOUN    ACCEPTS  85 

his  plantation  life,  were  in  marked  contrast  to  the 
ceremoniousness  of  the  Van  Buren  administration 
which  Pakenham  also  had  known. 

"Your  Excellency,"  said  he,  "her  Majesty  the 
Queen  of  England's  wish  is  somewhat  anticipated 
by  my  visit  here  to-day.  I  hasten  only  to  put  in  the 
most  prompt  and  friendly  form  her  Majesty's  de 
sires,  which  I  am  sure  formally  will  be  expressed  in 
the  first  mails  from  England.  We  deplore  this  most 
unhappy  accident  on  your  warship  Princeton,  which 
has  come  so  near  working  irremediable  injury  to  this 
country.  Unofficially,  I  have  ventured  to  make  this 
personal  visit  under  the  flag  of  this  enlightened 
Republic,  and  to  the  center  of  its  official  home,  out 
of  a  friendship  for  Mr.  Upshur,  the  late  secretary  of 
state,  a  friendship  as  sincere  as  is  that  of  my  own 
country  for  this  Republic." 

"Sir,"  said  Mr.  Tyler,  rising,  with  a  deep  bow, 
"the  courtesy  of  your  personal  presence  is  most  grat 
ifying.  Allow  me  to  express  that  more  intimate  and 
warmer  feeling  of  friendship  for  yourself  which 
comes  through  our  long  association  with  you.  This 
respect  and  .admiration  are  felt  by  myself  and  my 
official  family  for  you  and  the  great  power  which 
you  represent.  It  goes  to  you  with  a  special  sincerity 
as  to  a  gentleman  of  learning  and  distinction,  whose 
lofty  motives  and  ideals  are  recognized  by  all." 


86       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

Each  having  thus  delivered  himself  of  words 
which  meant  nothing,  both  now  seated  themselves 
and  proceeded  to  look  mighty  grave.  For  myself,  I 
stole  a  glance  from  the  tail  of  my  eye  toward  the 
Baroness  von  Ritz.  She  sat  erect  in  her  chair,  a 
figure  of  easy  grace  and  dignity,  but  on  her  face  was 
nothing  one  could  read  to  tell  who  she  was  or  why; 
she  was  here.  So  far  from  any  external  gaucherie, 
she  seemed  quite  as  much  at  home  here,  and  quite  as 
fit  here,  as  England's  plenipotentiary. 

"I  seize  upon  this  opportunity,  Mr.  Pakenham," 
said  Mr.  Tyler  presently,  with  a  smile  which  he 
meant  to  set  all  at  ease  and  to  soften  as  much  as  pos 
sible  the  severity  of  that  which  was  to  follow,  "I 
gladly  take  this  opportunity  to  mention  in  ,an  infor 
mal  way  my  hope  that  this  matter  which  was  already 
inaugurated  by  Mr.  Upshur  before  his  untimely 
death  may  come  to  perfectly  pleasant  consumma 
tion.  I  refer  to  the  question  of  Texas." 

"I  beg  pardon,  your  Excellency,"  rejoined  Mr. 
Pakenham,  half  rising.  "Your  meaning  is  not  per 
fectly  clear  to  me." 

The  same  icy  smile  sat  upon  Mr.  Tyler's  face  as 
he  went  on :  "I  can  not  believe  that  your  govern, 
ment  can  wish  to  interfere  in  matters  upon  this  con- 
tinent  to  the  extent  of  taking  the  position  of  open 
ally  of  the  Republic  of  Mexico,  a  power  so  recently 
at  war  upon  our  own  borders  with  the  brave  Texans 


MR.    CALHOUN    ACCEPTS  87 

who  have  left  our  flag  to  set  up,  through  fair  con* 
quest,  a  republic  of  their  own." 

The  mottled  face  of  Mr.  Pakenham  assumed  a  yet 
deeper  red.  "As  to  that,  your  Excellency,"  said  he, 
"your  remark  is,  as  you  say,  quite  informal,  of 
course — that  is  to  say,  as  I  may  state — " 

"Quite  so,"  rejoined  Mr.  Tyler  gravely.  "The1 
note  of  my  Lord  Aberdeen  to  us,  none  the  less,  in 
the  point  of  its  bearing  upon  the  question  of  slavery 
in  Texas,  appears  to  this  government  as  an  expres 
sion  which  ought  to  be  disavowed  by  your  own 
government.  Do  I  make  myself  quite  clear?"  (With 
John  Calhoun  present,  Tyler  could  at  times  assume 
a  courage  though  he  had  it  not.) 

Mr.  Pakenham's  face  glowed  a  deeper  red.  "I 
am  not  at  liberty  to  discuss  my  Lord  Aberdeen's 
wishes  in  this  matter,"  he  said.  "We  met  here 
upon  a  purely  informal  matter,  .and — " 

"I  have  only  ventured  to  hope,"  rejoined  Mr. 
Tyler,  "that  the  personal  kindness  of  your  own  heart 
might  move  you  in  so  grave  a  matter  as  that  which 
imay  lead  to  war  between  two  powers." 

"War,  sir,  war?"     Mr.   Pakenham  went  wholly 
purple   in    his   surprise,    and   sprang   to    his    feet. 
"War!"  he  repeated  once  more.     "As  though  there| 
could  be  any  hope — " 

"Quite  right,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tyler  grimly.  "As 
though  there  could  be  any  hope  for  us  save  in  our 


88       FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

own  conduct  of  our  own  affairs,  without  any  inter 
ference  from  any  foreign  power !" 

I  knew  it  was  John  Calhoun  speaking  these  words, 
not  Mr.  Tyler.  I  saw  Mr.  Calhoun's  keen,  cold  eyes 
fixed  closely  upon  the  face  of  his  president.  The 
consternation  created  by  the  latter's  words  was 
plainly  visible. 

"Of  course,  this  conversation  is  entirely  irregular 
—I  mean  to  say,  wholly  unofficial,  your  Excel 
lency?"  hesitated  Pakenham.  "It  takes  no  part  in 
our  records?" 

"Assuredly  not,"  said  Mr.  Tyler.  "I  only  hope 
the  question  may  never  come  to  a  matter  of  record  at 
all.  Once  our  country  knows  that  dictation  has  been 
attempted  with  us,  even  by  England  herself,  the 
North  will  join  the  South  in  resentment.  Even 
now,  in  restivenesc  at  the  fancied  attitude  of  Eng 
land  toward  Mexico,  the  West  raises  the  demand 
that  we  shall  end  the  joint  occupancy  of  Oregon 
with  Great  Britain.  Do  you  perchance  know  the 
watchword  which  is  now  on  the  popular  tongue  west 
of  the  Alleghanies?  It  bids  fair  to  become  an 
American  Marseillaise." 

"I  must  confess  my  ignorance,"  rejoined  Mr, 
Pakenham. 

"Our  backwoodsmen  have  invented  a  phrase 
which  runs  Fifty -four  Forty  or  Fight!" 

"I  beg  pardon,  I  am  sure,  your  Excellency?" 


MR.    CALHOUN    ACCEPTS  89 

"It  means  that  if  we  conclude  to  terminate  the 
very  unsatisfactory  muddle  along  the  Columbia 
River — a  stream  which  our  mariners  first  explored, 
as  we  contend — and  if  we  conclude  to  dispute  with 
England  as  well  regarding  our  delimitations  on  the 
Southwest,  where  she  has  even  less  right  to  speak, 
then  we  shall  contend  for  all  that  territory,  not  only 
up  to  the  Columbia,  but  north  to  the  Russian  line, 
the  parallel  of  fifty-four  degrees  and  forty  minutes ! 
We  claim  that  we  once  bought  Texas  clear  to  the 
Rio  Grande,  from  Napoleon,  although  the  foolish 
treaty  with  Spain  in  1819  clouded  our  title — in  the 
belief  of  our  Whig  friends,  who  do  not  desire  more 
slave  territory.  Even  the  Whigs  think  that  we  own 
Oregon  by  virtue  of  first  navigation  of  the  Columbia. 
Both  Whigs  and  Democrats  now  demand  Oregon 
north  to  fifty-four  degrees,  forty  minutes.  The 
alternative?  My  Lord  Aberdeen  surely  makes  no 
deliberate  bid  to  hear  it !" 

"Or  fight!"  exclaimed  Pakenham.  "God  bless 
my  soul !  Fight  us?" 

Mr.  Tyler  flushed.  "Such  things  have  been," 
said  he  with  dignity. 

"That  is  to  say,"  he  resumed  calmly,  "our  rude 
Westerners  are  egotistic  and  ignorant.  I  admit  that 
we  are  young.  But  believe  me,  when  the  American 
people  say  -fight,  it  has  but  one  meaning.  As  their 
servant,  I  am  obliged  to  convey  that  meaning.  In 


90       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

this  democracy,  the  will  of  the  people  rules.  In  war, 
we  have  no  Whigs,  no  Democrats,  we  have  only  the 
people!" 

At  this  astounding  speech  the  British  minister  sat 
dumfounded.  This  air  of  courage  and  confidence  on 
the  part  of  Mr.  Tyler  himself  was  something  foreign 
to  his  record.  I  knew  the  reason  for  his  boldness. 
John  Calhoun  sat  at  his  right  hand. 

At  least,  the  meaning  of  this  sudden  assault  was 
too  much  for  England's  representative.  Perhaps, 
indeed,  the  Berserker  blood  of  our  frontier  spoke  in 
Mr.  Tyler's  gaze.  That  we  would  fight  indeed  was 
true  enough. 

"It  only  occurs  to  us,  sir/'  continued  the  presi 
dent,  "that  the  great  altruism  of  England's  heart  has 
led  her  for  a  moment  to  utter  sentiments  in  a  form 
which  might,  perhaps,  not  be  sanctioned  in  her 
colder  judgment.  This  nation  has  not  asked  counsel. 
We  are  not  yet  agreed  in  our  Congress  upon  the  ad 
mission  of  Texas — although  I  may  say  to  you,  sir, 
with  fairness,  that  such  is  the  purpose  of  this  admin 
istration.  There  being  no  war,  we  still  have  Whigs 
and  Democrats !" 

"At  this  point,  your  Excellency,  the  dignity  of 
her  Majesty's  service  would  lead  me  to  ask  excuse/' 
rejoined  Mr.  Pakenham  formally,  "were  it  not  for 
one  fact,  which  I  should  like  to  offer  here.  I  have, 
in  short,  news  which  will  .appear  full  warrant  fo# 


MR.    CALHOUN    ACCEPTS  91 

any  communication  thus  far  made  by  her  Majesty's 
government  I  can  assure  you  that  there  has  come 
into  the  possession  of  this  lady,  whose  able  services 
I  venture  to  enlist  here  in  her  presence,  a  communi 
cation  from  the  Republic  of  Texas  to  the  govern 
ment  of  England.  That  communication  is  done  by 
no  less  a  hand  than  that  of  the  attache  for  the  Re 
public  of  Texas,  Mr.  Van  Zandt  himself." 

There  was,  I  think,  no  other  formal  invitation  for 
the  Baroness  von  Ritz  to  speak;  but  now  she  arose, 
swept  a  curtsey  first  to  Mr.  Tyler  and  then  to  Mr. 
Pakenham  and  Mr.  Calhoun. 

"It  is  not  to  be  expected,  your  Excellency  and 
gentlemen,"  said  she,  "that  I  can  add  anything  of 
value  here."  Her  eyes  were  demurely  downcast. 

"We  do  not  doubt  your  familiarity  with  many  of 
these  late  events,"  encouraged  Mr.  Tyler. 

"True,"  she  continued,  "the  note  of  my  Lord 
Aberdeen  is  to-day  the  property  of  the  streets,  an<\ 
of  this  I  have  some  knowledge.  I  can  see,  also, 
difficulty  in  its  reception  among  the  courageous  gen 
tlemen  of  America.  But,  as  to  any  written  communi 
cation  from  Mr.  Van  Zandt,  there  must  be  some 
mistake !" 

"I  was  of  the  impression  that  you  would  have  had 
it  last  night,"  rejoined  Pakenham,  plainly  confused; 
"in  fact,  that  gentleman  advised  me  to  such  effect." 

The  Baroness  Helena  von  Ritz  looked  him  full  in 


92       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

the  face  and  only  gravely  shook  her  head.  "I  regret 
matters  should  be  so  much  at  fault,"  said  she. 

"Then  let  me  explain,"  resumed  Pakenham,  aK- 
most  angrily.  "I  will  state — unofficially,  of  course 
-—that  the  promises  of  Mr.  Van  Zandt  were  that 
Her  Majesty  might  expect  an  early  end  of  the  talk 
of  the  annexation  of  Texas  to  the  United  States. 
The  greater  power  of  England  upon  land  or  sea 
would  assure  that  weak  Republic  of  a  great  and  en 
lightened  ally— in  his  belief." 

"An  ally!"  broke  out  Mr.  Calhoun.  "And  a  doc 
ument  sent  to  that  effect  by  the  attache  of  Texas !" 
He  smiled  coldly.  "Two  things  seem  very  appar 
ent,  Mr.  President.  First,  that  this  gentle  lady 
stands  high  in  the  respect  of  England's  ministry. 
Second,  that  Mr.  Van  Zandt,  if  all  this  were  true, 
ought  to  stand  very  low  in  ours.  I  would  say  all  this 
and  much  more,  even  were  it  a  state  utterance,  to 
stand  upon  the  records  of  this  nation !" 

"Sir,"  interrupted  Mr.  Tyler,  swiftly  turning  to 
Mr.  Calhoun,  "may  I  not  ask  you  that  it  be  left  as  a 
state  utterance?" 

Mr.  Calhoun  bowed  with  the  old-time  grace  ha 
bitual  to  him,  his  hand  upon  his  heart,  but  he  made 
no  answer.  The  real  reason  might  have  been  read 
in  the  mottled  face  of  Pakenham,  now  all  the  colors 
of  the  rainbow,  as  he  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 

"Mr.    Calhoun,"    continued   the  president,    "you 


MR.    CALHOUN    ACCEPTS  93 

know  that  the  office  of  our  secretary  of  state  is  va 
cant.  There  is  no  one  living  would  serve  in  that 
office  more  wisely  than  yourself,  no  one  more  in  ac 
cordance  with  my  own  views  as  to  these  very  ques 
tions  which  are  before  us.  Since  it  has  come  to  that 
point,  I  offer  you  now  that  office,  and  do  so  officially. 
I  ask  your  answer." 

The  face  of  England's  minister  now  for  the  first 
time  went  colorless.  He  knew  what  this  meant. 

As  for  John  Calhoun,  he  played  with  both  of 
them  as  a  cat  would  with  a  mouse,  sneeringly  supe 
rior.  His  answer  was  couched  in  terms  suited  to  his 
own  purposes.  "This  dignity,  Mr.  President,"  said 
he,  bowing  deeply  again,  "so  unexpected,  so  oner 
ous,  so  responsible,  is  one  which  at  least  needs  time 
for  proper  consideration.  I  must  crave  opportunity 
for  reflection  and  for  pondering.  In  my  surprise  at 
your  sudden  request,  I  find  no  proper  answer  ready." 

Here,  then,  seemed  an  opportunity  for  delay, 
which  Mr.  Pakenham  was  swift  to  grasp.  He  arose 
and  bowed  to  Mr.  Tyler.  "I  am  sure  that  Mr.  Cal 
houn  will  require  some  days  at  least  for  the  framing 
of  his  answer  to  an  invitation  so  grave  as  this." 

"I  shall  require  at  least  some  moments,"  said  Mr. 
Calhoun,  smiling.  "That  Marseillaise  of  '44,  Mr. 
President,  says  Fifty-four  Forty  or  Fight.  That 
means  'the  Rio  Grande  or  fight/  as  well." 

A  short  silence  fell  upon  us  all.     Mr.  Tyler  half 


94      FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

rose  and  half  frowned  as  he  noticed  Mr.  Pakenham 
shuffling  as  though  he  would  depart. 

"It  shall  be,  of  course,  as  you  suggest,"  said  the 
president  to  Pakenham.  "There  is  no  record  of  any 
of  this.  But  the  answer  of  Mr.  Calhoun,  which  I 
await  and  now  demand,  is  one  which  will  go  upon 
the  records  of  this  country  soon  enough,  I  fancy.  I 
ask  you,  then,  to  hear  what  Mr.  Calhoun  replies." 

Ah,  it  was  well  arranged  and  handsomely  staged, 
this  little  comedy,  and  done  for  the  benefit  of  Eng 
land,  after  all !  I  almost  might  have  believed  that 
Mr.  Calhoun  had  rehearsed  this  with  the  president. 
Certainly,  the  latter  knew  perfectly  well  what  his  an 
swer  was  to  be.  Mr.  Calhoun  himself  made  that  de 
liberately  plain,  when  presently  he  arose. 

"I  have  had  some  certain  moments  for  reflection, 
Mr.  President,"  said  he,  "and  I  have  from  the  first 
moment  of  this  surprising  offer  on  your  part  been 
humbly  sensible  of  the  honor  offered  so  old  and  so 
unfit  a  man. 

"Sir,  my  own  record,  thank  God,  is  clear.  I  have 
stood  for  the  South.  I  stand  now  for  Texas.  I  be 
lieve  in  her  and  her  future.  She  belongs  to  us,  as  I 
have  steadfastly  insisted  at  all  hours  and  in  all 
places.  She  will  widen  the  southern  vote  in  Con 
gress,  that  is  true.  She  will  be  for  slavery.  That  also 
is  true.  I  myself  have  stood  for  slavery,  but  I  am  yet 
more  devoted  to  democracy  and  to  America  than  I 


MR.    CALHOUN    ACCEPTS  95 

am  to  the  South  and  to  slavery.  So  will  Texas  be.  I 
knt-w  what  Texas  means.  She  means  for  us  also 
Oregon.  She  means  more  than  that.  She  means  also 
a  democracy  spreading  across  this  entire  continent. 
My  attitude  in  that  regard  has  been  always  clear.  1 
have  not  sought  to  change  it.  Sir,  if  I  take  this  office 
which  you  offer,  I  do  so  with  the  avowed  and  ex 
pressed  purpose  of  bringing  Texas  into  this  Union, 
in  full  view  of  any  and  all  consequences.  I  shall 
offer  her  a  treaty  of  annexation  at  once!  I  shall 
urge  annexation  at  every  hour,  in  every  place,  in  all 
ways  within  my  means,  and  in  full  view  of  the  con 
sequences  !"  He  looked  now  gravely  and  keenly  at 
the  English  plenipotentiary. 

"That  is  well  understood,  Mr.  Calhoun,"  began 
Mr.  Tyler.  "Your  views  are  in  full  accord  with  my 
own." 

Pakenham  looked  from  the  one  to  the  other,  from 
the  thin,  vulpine  face  to  the  thin,  leonine  one.  The 
pity  Mr.  Tyler  felt  for  the  old  man's  visible  weak 
ness  showed  on  his  face  as  he  spoke. 

"What,  then,  is  the  answer  of  John  Calhoun  tx3 
chis  latest  call  of  his  country  ?" 

That  answer  is  one  which  is  in  our  history. 

"John  Calhoun  accepts!"  said  my  master,  loud 
and  clear. 


CHAPTER   IX 

A  KETTLE  OF  FISH 

Few  disputes   exist  which  have  not   had  their  origin  ML 
vomen — Juvenal. 

I  SAW  the  heavy  face  of  Mr.  Pakenham  go  pale, 
saw  the  face  of  the  Baroness  von  Ritz  flash 
with  a  swift  resolution,  saw  the  eyes  of  Mr. 
Calhoun  and  Mr.  Tyler  meet  in  firmness.     An  in 
stant  later,  Mr.  Tyler  rose  and  bowed  our  dismissal. 
Our  little  play  was  done.   Which  of  us  knew  all  the 
motives  that  had  lain  behind  its  setting? 

Mr.  Pakenham  drew  apart  and  engaged  in  earnest 
speech  with  the  lady  who  had  accompanied  him ; 
so  that  meantime  I  myself  found  opportunity  for  a 
word  with  Mr.  Calhoun. 

"Now,"  said  I,  "the  fat  certainly  is  all  in  the  fire !" 

"What  fat,  my  son?"  asked  Calhoun  serenely; 
"and  what  fire?" 

"At  least" — and  I  grinned  covertly,  I  fear— -"it 
seems  all  over  between  my  lady  and  her  protector 
there.  She  turned  traitor  just  when  he  had  most 
need  of  her!  Tell  me,  what  argument  did  you  us* 
with  her  last  night?" 

96 


A    KETTLE    OF    FISH  97 

Mr.  Calhoun  took  snuff. 

"You  don't  know  women,  my  son,  and  you  don't 
know  men,  either."  The  thin  white  skin  about  his 
eyes  wrinkled. 

"Certainly,  I  don't  know  what  arts  may  have  been 
employed  in  Mr.  Calhoun's  office  at  half-past  two 
this  morning,"  I  smiled  frankly  now  at  my  chief, 
and  he  relaxed  in  turn. 

"We  had  a  most  pleasant  visit  of  an  hour.  A  de 
lightful  woman,  a  charming  woman,  and  one  of  in 
tellect  as  well.  I  appealed  to  her  heart,  her  brain, 
her  purse,  and  she  laughed,  for  the  most  part.  Yet 
she  argued,  too,  and  seemed  to  have  some  interest — 
as  you  see  proved  now.  Ah,  I  wish  I  could  have  had 
the  other  two  great  motives  to  add  to  my  appeal !" 

"Meaning—?" 

"Love — and  curiosity !  With  those  added,  I  could 
have  won  her  over;  for  believe  me,  she  is  none  too 
firmly  anchored  to  England.  I  am  sure  of  that, 
though  it  leaves  me  still  puzzled.  If  you  think  her 
personal  hold  on  yonder  gentleman  will  be  lessened, 
you  err,"  he  added,  in  a  low  voice.  "I  consider  it 
sure  that  he  is  bent  on  her  as  much  as  he  is  on  Eng 
land.  See,  she  has  him  back  in  hand  already !  I 
would  she  were  our  friend !" 

"Is  she  not?"  I  asked  suddenly. 

"We  two  may  answer  that  one  day,"  said  Calhoum 
enigmatically. 


98       FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

Now  I  offered  to  Mr.  Calhoun  the  note  I  had 
received  from  his  page. 

"This  journey  to-night,"  I  began;  "can  I  not  be 
excused  from  making  that?  There  is  a  very  special 
reason." 

"What  can  it  be?"  asked  Calhoun,  frowning. 

"I  am  to  be  married  to-night,  sir,"  said  I,  calmly 
as  I  could. 

It  was  Calhoun's  turn  now  to  be  surprised.  "Mar 
ried?  Zounds  !  boy,  what  do  you  mean  ?  There  is 
no  time  to  waste." 

"I  do  not  hold  it  quite  wasted,  sir,"  said  I  with 
dignity.  "Miss  Elisabeth  Churchill  and  I  for  a  long 


"Miss  Elisabeth!  So  the  wind  is  there,  eh?  My 
daughter's  friend.  I  know  her  very  well,  of  course. 
Very  well  done,  indeed,  for  you.  But  there  can  be  no 
wedding  to-night." 

I  looked  at  him  in  amazement.  He  was  as  ab 
sorbed  as  though  he  felt  empowered  to  settle  that' 
matter  for  me.  A  moment  later,  seeing  Mr.  Paken- 
ham  taking  his  leave,  he  stepped  to  the  side  of  the 
baroness.  I  saw  him  and  that  mysterious  lady  fall 
into  a  conversation  as  grave  as  that  which  had  but 
now  been  ended.  I  guessed,  rather  than  reasoned 
that  in  some  mysterious  way  I  came  into  their  talk, 
But  presently  both  approached  me. 

"Mr.  Trist,"  said  Mr.  Calhoun,  "I  beg  you  to  hand 


A    KETTLE    OF    FISH  99 

the  Baroness  von  Ritz  to  her  carriage,  which  will 
wait  at  the  avenue."  We  were  then  standing  near 
the  door  at  the  head  of  the  steps. 

"I  see  my  friend  Mr.  Polk  approaching,"  he  con 
tinued,  "and  I  would  like  to  have  a  word  or  so  with 
him." 

We  three  walked  in  company  down  the  steps  and 
a  short  distance  along  the  walk,  until  presently  we 
faced  the  gentleman  whose  approach  had  been  noted. 
We  paused  in  a  little  group  under  the  shade  of  an 
avenue  tree,  and  the  gentlemen  removed  their  hats 
as  Mr.  Calhoun  made  a  somewhat  formal  introduc 
tion. 

At  that  time,  of  course,  James  K.  Polk,  of  Tennes 
see,  was  not  the  national  figure  he  was  soon  to  be 
come  at  the  Baltimore  convention.  He  was  known 
best  as  Speaker  of  the  House  for  some  time,  and  as 
a  man  experienced  in  western  politics,  a  friend  of 
Jackson,  who  still  controlled  a  large  wing  of  the 
disaffected;  the  Democratic  party  then  being  scarce 
more  than  a  league  of  warring  cliques.  Although 
once  governor  of  Tennessee,  it  still  was  an  honor  for 
Mr.  Polk  to  be  sought  out  by  Senator  John  Calhoun, 
sometime  vice-president,  sometime  cabinet  member 
in  different  capacities.  He  showed  this  as  he  un 
covered.  A  rather  short  man,  and  thin,  well-built 
enough,  and  of  extremely  serious  mien,  he  scarce 
could  have  been  as  wise  as  he  looked,  any  more  than 


loo     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

Mr.  Daniel  Webster;  yet  he  was  good  example  of 
conventional  politics,  platitudes  and  all. 

"They  have  adjourned  at  the  House,  then?"  said 
Calhoun. 

"Yes,  and  adjourned  a  bear  pit  at  that,"  answered 
the  gentleman  from  Tennessee.  "Mr.  Tyler  has 
asked  me  to  come  across  town  to  meet  him.  Do  you 
happen  to  know  where  he  is  now?" 

"He  was  here  a  few  moments  ago,  Governor.  We 
were  but  escorting  this  lady  to  her  carriage,  as  she 
claims  fatigue  from  late  hours  at  the  ball  last  night" 

"Surely  so  radiant  a  presence,"  said  Mr.  Polk  gal 
lantly,  "means  that  she  left  the  ball  at  an  early 
hour." 

"Quite  so,"  replied  that  somewhat  uncertain  lady 
demurely.  "Early  hours  and  a  good  conscience  are 
advised  by  my  physicians." 

"My  dear  lady,  Time  owns  his  own  defeat  in 
you,"  Mr.  Polk  assured  her,  his  eyes  sufficiently  ad 
miring. 

"Such  pretty  speeches  as  these  gentlemen  of 
America  make!"  was  her  gay  reply.  "Is  it  not  so, 
Mr.  Secretary  ?"  She  smiled  up  at  Calhoun's  serio** 
face. 

Polk  was  possessed  of  a  political  nose  which  rarely 
failed  him.  "Mr.  Secretary?"  he  exclaimed,  turning 
to  Calhoun. 


A    KETTLE    OF    FISH  101 

The  latter  bowed.  "I  have  just  accepted  the  place 
lately  filled  by  Mr.  Upshur,"  was  his  comment  j 

A  slow  color  rose  in  the  Tennesseean's  face  as  he 
held  out  his  hand.  "I  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Secre 
tary,"  said  he.  "Now  at  last  we  shall  see  an  end  of 
indecision  and  boasting  pretense." 

"Excellent  things  to  end,  Governor  Polk!"  said 
Calhoun  gravely. 

"I  am  but  an  humble  adviser,"  rejoined  the  man 
from  Tennessee;  "but  assuredly  I  must  hasten  to 
congratulate  Mr.  Tyler.  I  have  no  doubt  that  this 
means  Texas.  Of  course,  my  dear  Madam,  we  talk 
riddles  in  your  presence?" 

"Quite  riddles,  although  I  remain  interested," 
she  answered.  I  saw  her  cool  eyes  take  in  his  figure, 
measuring  him  calmly  for  her  mental  tablets,  as  I 
could  believe  was  her  wont.  "But  I  find  myself  in 
deed  somewhat  fatigued,  "  she  continued,  "and  since 
these  are  matters  of  which  I  am  ignorant — " 

"Of  course,  Madam,"  said  Mr.  Calhoun.  "We 
crave  your  pardon.  Mr.  Trist — " 

So  now  I  took  the  lady's  sunshade  from  her  hand, 
and  we  two,  making  adieux,  passed  down  the  shaded 
walk  toward  the  avenue. 

"You  are  a  good  cavalier,"  she  said  to  me.  "I 
find  you  not  so  fat  as  Mr.  Pakenham,  nor  so  thin  as 
Mr.  Calhoun.  My  faith,  could  you  have  seen  that 


102     FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

gentleman  this  morning  in  a  wrapper — and  in  a  red 
worsted  nightcap  P 

"But  what  did  you  determine?"  I  asked  her  sud 
denly.  "What  has  my  chief  said  to  cause  you  to  fail 
poor  Mr.  Pakenham  as  you  did?  I  pitied  the  poor 
man,  in  such  a  grueling,  and  wholly  without  warn^T 
ing!" 

"Monsieur  is  droll,"  she  replied  evasively.  "A§ 
though  I  had  changed !  I  will  say  this  much :  I 
think  Sir  Richard  will  care  more  for  Mexico  and 
less  for  Mexicans  after  this!  But  you  do  not  tell 
me  when  you  are  coming  to  see  me,  to  bring  back  my 
little  shoe.  Its  mate  has  arrived  by  special  messen 
ger,  but  the  pair  remains  still  broken.  Do  you  come, 
to-night — this  afternoon  ?" 

"I  wish  that  I  might,"  said  I. 

"Why  be  churlish  with  me?"  she  demanded.  "Did 
i  not  call  at  your  request  upon  a  gentleman  in  a  redj 
nightcap  at  two  in  the  morning?  And  for  your  sake 
— and  the  sake  of  sport — did  I  not  almost  promise 
him  many  things?  Come  now,  am  I  not  to  see  you 
and  explain  all  that;  and  hear  you  explain  all  this?" 
She  made  a  little  moue  at  me. 

"It  would  be  my  delight,  Madam,  but  there 
two  reasons — " 

"One,  then." 

"I  am  going  to  Montreal  to-night,  for  one." 


A    KETTLE    OF    FISH  103 

She  gave  me  a  swift  glance,  which  I  could  not 
understand. 

"So  ?"  she  said.    "Why  so  soon  ?" 

"Orders,"  said  I  briefly.  "But  perhaps  I  may  not 
obey  orders  for  once.  There  is  another  reason." 

"And  that  one?" 

"I  am  to  be  married  at  six." 

I  turned  to  enjoy  her  consternation.  Indeed,  there 
was  an  alternate  white  and  red  passed  across  her 
face !  But  at  once  she  was  in  hand. 

"And  you  allowed  me  to  become  your  devoted 
slave,"  she  said,  "even  to  the  extent  of  calling  upon  a 
man  in  a  red  nightcap ;  and  then,  even  upon  a  morn 
ing  like  this,  when  the  birds  sing  so  sweetly  and  the 
little  flowers  show  pink  and  white — now  you  cast 
down  my  most  sacred  feelings !" 

The  mockery  in  her  tone  was  perfect.  I  scarce 
had  paused  to  note  it.  I  was  absorbed  in  one  thought 
— of  Elisabeth.  Where  one  fire  burns  high  and 
clear  upon  the  altar  of  the  heart,  there  is  small  room 
for  any  other. 

"I  might  have  told  you,"  said  I  at  last,  "but  I  did 
not  myself  know  it  until  this  morning." 

"My  faith,  this  country !"  she  exclaimed  with  gen 
uine  surprise.  "What  extraordinary  things  it  does ! 
I  have  just  seen  history  made  between  the  lightings 
of  a  cigarette,  as  it  were.  Now  comes  this  man  and 


104    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

announces  that  since  midnight  he  has  met  and  woa 
the  lady  who  is  to  rule  his  heart,  and  that  he  is  to 
marry  her  at  six!" 

"Then  congratulate  me!"  I  demanded. 

"Ah,"  she  said,  suddenly  .absorbed;  "it  was  that 
tall  girl!  Yes,  yes,  I  see,  I  see!  I  understand!  So| 
then!  Yes!" 

"But  still  you  have  not  congratulated  me." 

"Ah,  Monsieur,"  she  answered  lightly,  "one 
woman  never  congratulates  a  man  when  he  has  won 
another!  What  of  my  own  heart?  Fie!  Fie!"  Yet 
she  had  curious  color  in  her  face. 

"I  do  not  credit  myself  with  such  fatal  charms," 
said  I.  "Rather  say  what  of  my  little  clasp  there.  I 
promised  that  to  the  tall  girl,  as  you  know." 

"And  might  I  not  wear  it  for  an  hour?" 

"I  shall  give  you  a  dozen  better  some  time,"  said 
I ;  "but  to-night—" 

"And  my  slipper?  I  said  I  must  have  that  back, 
because  I  can  not  hop  along  with  but  one  shoe  all  my 
life." 

"That  you  shall  have  as  soon  as  I  can  get  to  my 
rooms  at  Brown's  Hotel  yonder.  A  messenger  shall 
bring  it  to  you  at  once.  Time  will  indeed  be  short 
for  me.  First,  the  slipper  for  Madam.  Then  the  li 
cense  for  myself.  Then  the  minister.  Then  a  friend. 
Then  a  carriage.  Five  miles  to  Elmhurst,  and  the 
train  for  the  North  starts  at  eight.  Indeed,  as  you 


A    KETTLE    OF    FISH  105 

say,  the  methods  of  this  country  are  sometimes  hur 
ried.  Madam,  can  not  you  use  your  wits  in  a  cause 
so  worthy  as  mine?" 

I  could  not  at  the  time  understand  the  swift 
change  of  her  features.  "One  woman's  wits  against 
another's !"  she  flashed  at  me.  "As  for  that"—  She 
made  a  swift  motion  to  her  throat  "Here  is  the 
trinket.  Tell  the  tall  lady  it  is  my  present  to  you. 
Tell  her  I  may  send  her  a  wedding  present — when 
the  wedding  really  is  to  happen.  Of  course,  you  do 
not  mean  what  you  have  said  about  being  married 
in  such  haste?" 

"Every  word  of  it,"  I  answered.  "And  at  her  own 
home.  'Tis  no  runaway  match;  I  have  the  consent 
of  her  father." 

"But  you  said  you  had  her  consent  only  an  hour 
ago.  Ah,  this  is  better  than  a  play !" 

"It  is  true,"  said  I,  "there  has  not  been  time  to 
inform  Miss  Churchill's  family  of  my  need  for  haste. 
I  shall  attend  to  that  when  I  arrive.  The  lady  has 
seen  the  note  from  Mr.  Calhoun  ordering  me  to 
Montreal." 

"To  Montreal?  How  curious!"  she  mused.  "But 
what  did  Mr.  Calhoun  say  to  this  marriage?" 

"He  forbade  the  banns." 

"But  Monsieur  will  take  her  before  him  in  a  sack 
—and  he  will  forbid  you,  I  am  sure,  to  condemn 
that  lady  to  a  life  in  a  cabin,  to  a  couch  of  husks, 


1 06     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

to  a  lord  who  would  crush  her  arms  and  command 
her—" 

I  flushed  as  she  reminded  me  of  my  own  speech, 
and  there  came  no  answer  but  the  one  which  I  im 
agine  is  the  verdict  of  all  lovers.  "She  is  the  dearest 
girl  in  the  world,"  I  declared. 

"Has  she  fortune?" 

"I  do  not  know." 

"Have  you  fortune?" 

"God  knows,  no!" 

"You  have  but  love — and  this  country?'* 

"That  is  all." 

"It  is  enough,"  said  she,  sighing.  "Dear  God,  it 
is  enough !  But  then" —  she  turned  to  me  suddenly 
— -  "I  don't  think  you  will  be  married  so  soon,  after 
all.  Wait." 

"That  is  what  Mr.  Pakenham  wanted  Mr.  Calhoun 
to  do,"  I  smiled. 

"But  Mr.  Pakenham  is  not  ,a  woman." 

"Ah,  then  you  also  forbid  our  banns?" 

"If  you  challenge  me,"  she  retorted,  "I  shall  do 
my  worst." 

"Then  do  your  worst!"  I  said.  "All  of  you  do 
your  joint  worst.  You  can  not  shake  the  faith  of 
Elisabeth  Churchill  in  me,  nor  mine  in  her.  Oh, 
yes,  by  all  means  do  your  worst!" 

"Very  well,"  she  said,  with  a  catch  of  her  breath. 
"At  least  we  both  said — 'on  guard !'  " 


A    KETTLE    OF    FISH  107 

"I  wish  I  could  ask  you  to  attend  at  our  wedding," 
I  concluded,  as  her  carriage  approached  the  curb; 
"but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  not  even  friends  of  the  fam 
ily  will  be  present,  and  of  those  not  all  the  family 
will  be  friends." 

She  did  not  seem  to  see  her  carriage  as  it  paused, 
although  she  prepared  to  enter  when  I  opened  the 
door.  Her  look,  absorbed,  general,  seemed  rather 
to  take  in  the  sweep  of  the  wide  grounds,  the  green 
of  the  young  springtime,  the  bursting  of  the  new 
white  blossoms,  the  blue  of  the  sky,  the  loom  of  the 
distant  capitol  dome — all  the  crude  promise  of  our 
young  and  tawdry  capital,  still  in  the  making  of  a 
world  city.  Her  eyes  passed  to  me  and  searched  my 
face  without  looking  into  my  eyes,  as  though  I  made 
part  of  her  study.  What  sat  on  her  face  was  per 
plexity,  wonder,  amazement,  and  something  else,  I 
know  not  what.  Something  of  her  perfect  poise  and 
confidence,  her  quality  as  woman  of  the  world, 
seemed  to  drop  away.  A  strange  and  childlike  qual 
ity  came  into  her  face,  a  pathos  unlike  anything  I 
had  seen  there  before.  She  took  my  hand  mechan 
ically. 

"Of  course,"  said  she,  as  though  she  spoke  to  her 
self,  "it  can  not  be.  But,  dear  God !  would  it  not  be 
enough  ?" 

I  did  not  understand  her  speech.  I  stood  and 
watched  her  carriage  as  it  whirled  away.  Thinking 


io8     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

of  my  great  need  for  haste,  mechanically  I  looked  at 
my  watch.  It  was  one  o'clock.  Then  I  reflected  that 
it  was  at  eleven  of  the  night  previous  that  I  had  first 
met  the  Baroness  von  Ritz.  Our  acquaintance  had 
therefore  lasted  some  fourteen  hours. 


CHAPTER   X 

MIXED  DUTIES 
Most  women  will  forgive  a  liberty,  rather  than  a  slight 

— C0//0W. 

WHEN  I  crossed  the  White  House 
grounds  and  found  my  way  to  the  spot 
where  I  had  left  my  horse,  I  discovered 
my  darky  boy  lying  on  his  back,  fast  asleep  under  a 
tree,  the  bridle  reins  hooked  over  his  upturned  foot 
I  wakened  him,  took  the  reins  and  was  about  to 
mount,  when  at  the  moment  I  heard  my  name  called. 

Turning,  I  saw  emerge  from  the  door  of  Gautier's 
little  cafe,  across  the  street,  the  tall  figure  of  an  erst 
while  friend  of  mine,  Jack  Dandridge,  of  Tennessee, 
credited  with  being  the  youngest  member  in  the 
House  of  Representatives  at  Washington — and  cred 
ited  with  little  else. 

Dandridge  had  been  taken  up  by  friends  of  Jack 
son  and  Polk  and  carried  into  Congress  without 
much  plan  or  objection  on  either  side.  Since  his  ar 
rival  at  the  capital  he  had  been  present  at  few  roll- 
calls,  and  had  voted  on  fewer  measures.  His  life 
was  given  up  in  the  main  to  one  specialty,  to-wit: 

109 


I  io    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

the  compounding  of  a  certain  beverage,  invented  by 
himself,  the  constituent  parts  of  which  were  Bourbon 
whiskey,  absinthe,  square  faced  gin  and  a  dash  of 
eau  de  me.  This  concoction,  over  which  few  shared 
his  own  personal  enthusiasm,  he  had  christened  the 
Barn-Burner's  Dream;  although  Mr.  Dandridge 
himself  was  opposed  to  the  tenets  of  the  political 
party  thus  entitled — which,  by  the  way,  was  to  get 
its  whimsical  name,  possibly  from  Dandridge  him 
self,  at  the  forthcoming  Democratic  convention  of 
that  year. 

Jack  Dandridge,  it  may  be  said,  was  originally 
possessed  of  a  splendid  constitution.  Nearly  six  feet 
tall,  his  full  and  somewhat  protruding  eye  was  as 
yet  only  a  trifle  watery,  his  wide  lip  only  a  trifle 
loose,  his  strong  figure  only  a  trifle  portly.  Socially 
he  had  been  well  received  in  our  city,  and  during  his 
stay  east  of  the  mountains  he  had  found  occasion  to 
lay  desperate  suit  to  the  hand  of  none  other  than 
Miss  Elisabeth  Churchill.  We  had  been  rivals, 
although  not  enemies;  for  Jack,  finding  which  way 
the  wind  sat  for  him,  withdrew  like  a  man,  and 
cherished  no  ill  will.  When  I  saw  him  now,  a  sud 
den  idea  came  to  me,  so  that  I  crossed  the  street  at 
his  invitation. 

"Come  in/'  said  he.  "Come  in  with  me,  and  have 
a  Dream.  I  have  just  invented  a  new  touch  for  it; 
1  have,  'pon  my  word." 


MIXED    DUTIES  in 

"Jack,"  I  exclaimed,  grasping  him  by  the  shoul 
der,  "you  are  the  man  I  want.  You  are  the  friend 
that  I  need — the  very  one." 

"Certainly,  certainly,"  he  said;  "but  please  do  not 
disarrange  my  cravat.  Sir,  I  move  you  the  previous 
question.  Will  you  have  a  Dream  with  me?  I  con 
struct  them  now  with  three  additional  squirts  of  the 
absinthe."  He  locked  his  arm  in  mine. 

"You  may  have  a  Dream,"  said  I ;  "but  for  me,  I 
need  all  my  head  to-day.  In  short,  I  need  both  our 
heads  as  well." 

Jack  was  .already  rapping  with  the  head  of  his 
cane  upon  the  table,  to  call  an  attendant,  but  he 
turned  to  me.  "What  is  the  matter?  Lady,  this 
time?" 

"Two  of  them." 

"Indeed?   One  apiece,  eh ?" 

"None  apiece,  perhaps.    In  any  case,  you  lose." 

"Then  the  names — or  at  least  one?" 

I  flushed  a  bit  in  spite  of  myself.  "You  know  Miss 
Elisabeth  Churchill?" 

He  nodded  gravely.   "And  about  the  other  lady  ?" 

"I  can  not  tell  you  much  about  her,"  said  I;  "I 
have  but  little  knowledge  myself.  I  mean  the  Bar 
oness  von  Ritz." 

"Oh,  ho !"  Jack  opened  his  eyes,  and  gave  a  long 
whistle.  "State  secrets,  eh?" 

I  nodded,  and  looked  him  square  in  the  eye. 


:i2     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"Well,  why  should  you  ask  me  to  help  you,  then? 
Calhoun  is  none  too  good  a  friend  of  Mr.  Polk,  of 
my  state.  Calhoun  is  neither  Whig  nor  Democrat. 
He  does  not  know  where  he  stands.  If  you  train 
with  him,  why  come  to  our  camp  for  help?" 

"Not  that  sort,  Jack,"  I  answered.  'The  favor 
I  ask  is  personal." 

"Explain." 

He  sipped  at  the  fiery  drink,  which  by  this  time 
had  been  placed  before  him,  his  face  brightening. 

"I  must  be  quick.  I  have  in  my  possession — on 
the  bureau  in  my  little  room  at  my  quarters  in 
Brown's  Hotel — a  slipper  which  the  baroness  gave 
me  last  night — a  white  satin  slipper — " 

Jack  finished  the  remainder  of  his  glass  at  a  gulp. 
"Good  God  !"  he  remarked. 

"Quite  right,"  I  retorted  hotly.  "Accuse  me! 
Anything  you  like !  But  go  to  my  headquarters,  get 
that  slipper,  go  to  this  address  with  it" — I  scrawled 
on  a  piece  of  paper  and  thrust  it  at  him —  "then  get 
a  carriage  and  hasten  to  Elmhurst  drive,  where  it 
turns  in  at  the  road.  Wait  for  me  there,  just  before 
six." 

He  sat  looking  at  me  with  amusement  and  amaze* 
ment  both  upon  his  face,  as  I  went  on : 

"Listen  to  what  I  ,am  to  do  in  the  meantime.  First\ 
'I  go  post  haste  to  Mr.  Calhoun's  office.  Then  I  an 


MIXED    DUTIES  113 

to  take  his  message,  which  will  send  me  to  Canada, 
to-night.  After  I  have  my  orders  I  hurry  back  to 
Brown's  and  dress  for  my  wedding." 

The  glass  in  his  hand  dropped  to  the  floor  in 
splinters. 

"Your  wedding?" 

"Yes,  Miss  Elisabeth  and  I  concluded  this  very 
morning  not  to  wait.  I  would  ask  you  to  help  me  as 
my  best  man,  if  I  dare." 

"You  do  dare,"  said  he.  "You're  all  a-fluster.  Go 
on;  I'll  get  a  parson — how'll  Doctor  Halford  do? — 
and  I'd  take  care  of  the  license  for  you  if  I  could — 
Gad !  sorry  it's  not  my  own !" 

"You  are  the  finest  fellow  in  the  world,  Jack.  I 
have  only  one  thing  more  to  ask" —  I  pointed  to  the 
splintered  glass  upon  the  floor —  "Don't  get  an 
other." 

"Of  course  not,  of  course  not!"  he  expostulated. 
His  voice  was  just  a  trifle  thickened.  We  left  now  to 
gether  for  the  license  clerk,  and  I  intrusted  the 
proper  document  in  my  friend's  hands.  An  instant 
later  I  was  outside,  mounted,  and  off  for  Calhoun's 
office  at  his  residence  in  Georgetown. 

At  last,  as  for  the  fourth  time  I  flung  down  the 
narrow  walk  and  looked  down  the  street,  I  saw 
his  well-known  form  approaching.  He  walked  slow 
ly,  somewhat  stooped  upon  his  cane.  He  raised  ai 


114    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

hand  as  I  would  have  begun  to  speak.  His  cus 
tomary  reserve  and  dignity  held  me  back. 

"So  you  made  it  out  well  with  the  lady,"  he 
began. 

"Yes/*  I  answered,  flushing.  "Not  so  badly  for 
the  time  that  offered." 

"A  remarkable  woman,"  he  said.  "Most  remark 
able!"  Then  he  went  on :  "Now  as  to  your  own  in 
tended,  I  congratulate  you.  But  I  suggest  that  you 
keep  Miss  Elisabeth  Churchill  and  the  Baroness  von 
Ritz  pretty  well  separated,  if  that  be  possible." 

"Sir,"  I  stammered;  "that  certainly  is  my  per 
sonal  intent.  But  now,  may  I  ask — " 

"You  start  to  Canada  to-night,"  said  Calhoun 
sharply — all  softness  gone  from  his  voice. 

"I  can  not  well  do  that,"  I  began.  His  hand 
tapped  with  decision. 

"I  have  no  time  to  choose  another  messenger,"  he 
said.  "Time  will  not  wait.  You  must  not  fail  me. 
You  will  take  the  railway  train  at  eight.  You  will 
be  joined  by  Doctor  Samuel  Ward,  who  will  give 
you  a  sealed  paper,  which  will  contain  your  instruc 
tions,  and  the  proper  moneys.  He  goes  as  far  as  Bal 
timore." 

"You  would  be  the  better  agent,"  he  added  pres 
ently,  "if  this  love  silliness  were  out  of  your  head. 
It  is  not  myself  you  are  serving,  and  not  my  party. 
It  is  this  country  you  are  serving." 


MIXED    DUTIES  115 

"But,  sir—"  I  began. 

His  long  thin  hand  was  imperative.  "Go  on, 
then,  with  your  wedding,  if  you  will,  and  if  you  can ; 
but  see  that  you  do  not  miss  the  train  at  eight!" 

Half  in  a  daze,  I  left  him ;  nor  did  i  see  him  again 
f,hat  day,  nor  for  many  after. 


CHAPTER   XI 

WHO  GIVETH  THIS  WOMAN 

Woman  is  a  miracle  of  divine  contradictions. — Jules  Michelel 

ON  my  return  to  my  quarters  at  Brown's  I 
looked  at  the  top  of  my  bureau.  It  was 
empty.  My  friend  Dandridge  had  proved 
faithful.  The  slipper  of  the  baroness  was  gone !  So 
now,  hurriedly,  I  began  my  toilet  for  that  occasion 
which  to  any  gentleman  should  be  the  one  most  ex 
acting,  the  most  important  of  his  life's  events. 

Elisabeth  deserved  better  than  this  unseemly 
haste.  Her  sweetness  and  dignity,  her  adherence  to 
the  forms  of  life,  her  acquaintance  with  the  ele 
gancies,  the  dignities  and  conventions  of  the  best  of 
our  society,  bespoke  for  her  ceremony  more  suited 
to  her  class  and  mine.  Nothing  could  excuse  these 
hurly  burly  ways  save  only  my  love,  our  uncertainty 
regarding  my  future  presence,  and  the  imperious 
quality  of  my  duties. 

I  told  none  about  iny  quarters  anything  of  my 
plans,  but  arranged  for  my  portmanteaus  to  be  sent 
to  the  railway  station  for  that  evening's  train  north. 
We  had  not  many  outgoing  and  incoming  trains  in 

116 


WHO    GIVETH    THIS   WOMAN       n? 

those  days  in  Washington.  I  hurried  to  Bond's  jew 
elry  place  and  secured  a  ring — two  rings,  indeed: 
for,  in  our  haste,  betrothal  and  wedding  ring  needer 
their  first  use  at  the  same  day  and  hour.  I  found  s 
waiting  carriage  which  served  my  purpose,  and  into 
it  I  flung,  urging  the  driver  to  carry  me  at  top  speed 
into  Elmhurst  road.  Having  now  time  for  breath,  I 
sat  back  and  consulted  my  watch.  There  were  a  few 
moments  left  for  me  to  compose  myself.  If  all  went 
well,  I  should  be  in  time. 

As  we  swung  down  the  road  I  leaned  forward, 
studying  with  interest  the  dust  cloud  of  an  ap 
proaching  carriage.  As  it  came  near,  I  called  to 
my  driver.  The  two  vehicles  paused  almost  wheel 
to  wheel.  It  was  my  friend  Jack  Dandridge  who 
sprawled  on  the  rear  seat  of  the  carriage !  That  is  to 
say,  the  fleshly  portion  of  Jack  Dandridge.  His 
mind,  his  memory,  and  all  else,  were  gone, 

I  sprang  into  his  carriage  and  caught  him  roughly 
by  the  arm.  I  felt  in  all  his  pockets,  looked  on  the 
carriage  floor,  on  the  seat,  and  pulled  up  the  dust 
rug.  At  last  I  found  the  license. 

"Did  you  see  the  baroness  ?"  I  asked,  then. 

At  this  he  beamed  upon  me  with  a  wide  smile. 

"Did  I  ?"  said  he,  with  gravity  pulling  down  his 
long  buff  waistcoat.  "Did  I?  Mos'  admi'ble  woman 
in  all  the  worl' !  Of  course,  Miss  'Lis'beth  Churchill 
also  mos'  admi'ble  wottian  in  the  worl',"  he  added 


i IS     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

politely,  "but  I  didn't  see  her.  Many,  many  con- 
grash'lations.  Mos'  admi'ble  girl  in  worl' — which 
ever  girl  she  is!  I  want  do  what's  right !" 

The  sudden  sweat  broke  out  upon  my  forehead. 
1<Tell  me,  what  have  you  done  with  the  slipper !" 

He  shook  his  head  sadly.  "Mishtaken,  my  friend ! 
I  gave  mos'  admi'ble  slipper  in  the  worl',  just  ash 
you  said,  just  as  baroness  said,  to  Mish  Elisabeth 
Churchill — mos'  admi'ble  woman  in  the  worl'i 
Proud  congrash'late  you  both,  m'  friend !" 

"Did  you  see  her?"  I  gasped.  "Did  you  see  her 
father — any  of  her  family  ?" 

"God  blesh  me,  no!"  rejoined  this  young  states 
man.  "Feelings  delicacy  prevented.  Realized  hav 
ing  had  three — four — five— Barn  Burners;  washn't 
in  fit  condition  to  approach  family  mansion.  Al- 
waysh  mos'  delicate.  Felt  m'self  no  condition  shtan' 
up  bes'  man  to  mosh  admi'ble  man  and  mosh  ad 
mi'ble  girl  in  worl'.  Sent  packazh  in  by  servant, 
from  gate — turned  round — drove  off — found  you. 
Lo,  th'  bridegroom  cometh!  Li'l  late!" 

My  only  answer  was  to  spring  from  his  carriage 
into  my  own  and  to  order  my  driver  to  go  on  at  a 
run.  At  last  I  reached  the  driveway  of  Elmhurst,. 
my  carriage  wheels  cutting  the  gravel  as  we  gal 
loped  up  to  the  front  door.  My  approach  was  noted 
Even  as  I  hurried  up  the  steps  the  tall  form  of  none 
Bother  than  Mr.  Daniel  Churchill  appeared  to  greet 


WHO    GIVETH   THIS   WOMAN 


me.     I  extended  my  hand.     He  did  not  notice  it     I 
began  to  speak.    He  bade  me  pause. 

"To  what  may  I  attribute  this  visit,  Mr.  Trist?" 
he  asked  me,  with  dignity. 

"Since  you  ask  me,  and  seem  not  to  know,"  I  re-, 
plied,  "I  may  say  that  I  am  here  to  marry  your? 
daughter,  Miss  Elisabeth  !    I  presume  that  the  min 
ister  of  the  gospel  is  already  here?" 

"The  minister  is  here,"  he  answered.  "There 
lacks  one  thing  —  the  bride." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

He  put  out  his  arm  across  the  door. 

"I  regret  that  I  must  bar  my  door  to  you.  But 
you  must  take  my  word,  as  coming  from  my  daugh 
ter,  that  you  are  not  to  come  here  to-night." 

I  looked  at  him,  my  eyes  staring  wide.  I  could 
not  believe  what  he  saic1. 

"Why,"  I  began;  "how  utterly  monstrous!" 

A  step  sounded  in  the  hall  behind  him,  and  he 
turned  back.  We  were  joined  by  the  tall  clerical 
figure  of  the  Reverend  Doctor  Halford,  who  had,  it 
seemed,  been  at  least  one  to  keep  his  appointment  as 
made.  He  raised  his  hand  as  if  to  silence  me,  and 
held  out  to  me  a  certain  object.  It  was  the  slipper  of  , 
the  Baroness  Helena  von  Ritz  —  white,  delicate,  j 
dainty,  beribboned. 

"Miss  Elisabeth  does  not  pretend  to  understand 
why  your  gift  should  take  this  form  ;  but  as  the  slip. 


120     FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY    OR   FIGHT 

per  evidently  has  been  worn  by  some  one,  she  sug 
gests  you  may  perhaps  be  in  error  in  sending  it  at 
all."  He  spoke  in  even,  icy  tones. 

"Let  me  into  this  house!"  I  demanded.  "I  must 
see  her!" 

There  were  two  tall  figures  now,  who  stood  side 
by  side  in  the  wide  front  door. 

"But  don't  you  see,  there  has  been  a  mistake,  a 
horrible  mistake  ?"  I  demanded. 

Doctor  Halford,  in  his  grave  and  quiet  way,  as 
sisted  himself  to  snuff.  "Sir,"  he  said,  "knowing  both 
families,  I  agreed  to  this  haste  and  unceremonious 
ness,  much  against  my  will.  Had  there  been  no  ob 
jection  upon  either  side,  I  would  have  undertaken 
to  go  forward  with  the  wedding  ceremony.  But 
never  in  my  life  have  I,  and  never  shall  I,  join  two 
in  wedlock  when  either  is  not  in  that  state  of  mind 
and  soul  consonant  with  that  holy  hour.  This  cere 
mony  can  not  go  on.  I  must  carry  to  you  this  young 
lady's  wish  that  you  depart.  She  can  not  see  you." 

There  arose  in  my  heart  a  sort  of  feeling  of  hor 
ror,  as  though  something  was  wrong,  I  could  not  tell 
what.  All  at  once  I  felt  a  swift  revulsion.  There 
came  over  me  the  reaction,  an  icy  calm.  I  felt  all 
ardor  leave  me.  I  was  cold  as  stone. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  I  slowly,  "what  you  tell  me  is 
absolutely  impossible  and  absurd.  But  if  Miss  Elisa 
beth  really  doubts  me  on  evidence  such  as  this,  I 


WHO    GIVETH    THIS   WOMAN       121 

would  be  the  last  man  in  the  world  to  ask  her  hand. 
Some  time  you  and  she  may  explain  to  me  about 
this.  It  is  my  right.  I  shall  exact  it  from  you  later. 
I  have  no  time  to  argue  now.  Good-by !" 

They  looked  at  me  with  grave  faces,  but  made  no 
reply.  I  descended  the  steps,  the  dainty,  beribboned 
slipper  still  in  my  hand,  got  into  my  carriage  and 
started  back  to  the  city. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  MARATHON 

As  if  two  gods  should  play  some  heavenly  match,  atzU  v~ 
this  wager  lay  two  earthly  women. — Shakespeare. 

A  N  automaton,  scarcely  thinking,  I  gained  the 

/  %  platform  of  the  station.  There  was  a  sound 
JL  JL  of  hissing  steam,  a  rolling  cloud  of  sulphur 
ous  smoke,  a  shouting  of  railway  captains,  a  creak 
ing  of  the  wheels.  Without  volition  of  my  own,  I 
was  on  my  northward  journey.  Presently  I  looked 
around  and  found  seated  at  my  side  the  man  whom  I 
then  recollected  I  was  to  meet— Doctor  Samuel 
Ward.  I  presume  he  took  the  train  after  I  did. 

" What's  wrong,  Nicholas?"  he  asked.  "Trouble 
of  any  kind?" 

I  presume  that  the  harsh  quality  of  my  answer 
surprised  him.  He  looked  at  me  keenly. 

"Tell  me  what's  up,  my  son,"  said  he. 

"You  know  Miss  Elisabeth  Churchill—"  I  hesi 
tated. 

He  nodded.  "Yes,"  he  rejoined;  "and  damn  you, 
»sir !  if  you  give  that  girl  a  heartache,  you'll  have  to 
settle  with  me!" 

122 


THE    MARATHON  123 

"•Some  one  will  have  to  settle  with  me?"  I  re 
turned  hotly. 

"Tell  me,  then." 

So,  briefly,  I  did  tell  him  what  little  I  knew  of  the 
events  of  the  last  hour.  I  told  him  of  the  shame  and 
humiliation  of  it  all.  He  pondered  for  a  minute  and 
asked  me  at  length  if  I  believed  Miss  Elisabeth  sus 
pected  anything  of  my  errand  of  the  night  before. 

"How  could  she?"  I  answered.  "So  far  as  I  can 
recollect  I  never  mentioned  the  name  of  the  Bar 
eness  von  Ritz." 

Then,  all  at  once,  I  did  recollect !  I  did  remember 
that  I  had  mentioned  the  name  of  the  baroness  that 
very  morning  to  Elisabeth,  when  the  baroness  passed 
as  in  the  East  Room  !  I  had  not  told  the  truth — I  had 
gone  with  a  lie  on  my  lips  that  very  day,  and  asked 
her  to  take  vows  with  me  in  which  no  greater  truth 
ought  to  be  heard  than  the  simple  truth  from  me  to 
her,  in  any  hour  of  the  day,  in  any  time  of  our  two 
Uves ! 

Doctor  Ward  was  keen  enough  to  see  the  sudden 
confusion  on  my  face,  but  he  made  no  comment  be 
yond  saying  that  he  doubted  not  time  would  clear  it 
all  up ;  that  he  had  known  many  such  affairs. 

"But  mind  you  one  thing,"  he  added;  "keep  those 
two  women  apart." 

"Then  why  do  you  two  doddering  old  idiots,  you 
and  John  Calhoun,  with  life  outworn  and  the  blood 


124     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

dried  in  your  veins,  send  me,  since  you  doubt  me  so 
much,  on  an  errand  of  this  kind?  You  see  what  it 
has  done  for  me.  I  am  done  with  John  Calhoun.  He 
may  get  some  other  fool  for  his  service." 

"Where  do  you  propose  going,  then,  my  friend?" 

"West/'  I  answered.     "West  to  the  Rockies—" 

Doctor  Ward  calmly  produced  a  tortoise  shell 
snuffbox  from  his  left-hand  waistcoat  pocket,  and  de 
liberately  took  snuff.  "You  are  going  to  do  nothing 
of  the  kind,"  said  he  calmly.  "You  are  going  to  keep 
your  promise  to  John  Calhoun  and  to  me.  Believe 
me,  the  business  in  hand  is  vital.  You  go  to  Canada 
now  in  the  most  important  capacity  you  have  ever 
had." 

"I  care  nothing  for  that,"  I  answered  bitterly. 

"But  you  are  the  agent  of  your  country.  You  are 
called  to  do  your  country's  urgent  work.  Here  is 
your  trouble  over  one  girl.  Would  you  make  trouble 
for  a  million  American  girls — would  you  unsettle 
thousands  and  thousands  of  American  homes  be 
cause,  for  a  time,  you  have  known  trouble?  All  life 
,y?  only  trouble  vanquished.  I  ask  you  now  to  be  a 
.nan ;  I  not  only  expect  it,  but  demand  it  of  you  !" 

His  words  carried  weight  in  spite  of  myself.  I 
began  to  listen.  I  took  from  his  hand  the  package, 
looked  at  it,  examined  it.  Finally,  as  he  sat  silently 
regarding  me,  I  broke  the  seal. 

"Now,   Nicholas   Trist,"   resumed  Doctor  Ward 


THE    MARATHON  125 

presently,  "there  is  to  be  .at  Montreal  at  the  date 
named  in  these  papers  a  meeting  of  the  directors  of 
the  Hudson  Bay  Company  of  England.  There  will 
be  big  men  there — the  biggest  their  country  can  pro 
duce;  leaders  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  many 
public  men  even  of  England.  It  is  rumored  that  a 
brother  of  Lord  Aberdeen,  of  the  British  Ministry, 
will  attend.  Do  you  begin  to  understand  ?" 

Ah,  did  I  not?  Here,  then,  was  further  weaving 
of  those  complex  plots  which  at  that  time  hedged  in 
all  our  history  as  a  republic.  Now  I  guessed  the 
virtue  of  our  knowing  somewhat  of  England's  se 
cret  plans,  as  she  surely  did  of  ours.  I  began  to  feel 
behind  me  the  impulse  of  John  Calhoun's  swift  en 
ergy. 

"It  is  Oregon!"  I  exclaimed  at  last. 

Doctor  Ward  nodded.  "Very  possibly.  It  has 
seemed  to  Mr.  Calhoun  very  likely  that  we  may  hear 
something  of  great  importance  regarding  the  far 
Northwest.  A  missed  cog  now  may  cost  this  country 
a  thousand  miles  of  territory,  a  hundred  years  of 
history." 

Doctor  Ward  continued :  "England,  as  you  know," 
said  he,  "is  the  enemy  of  this  country  as  much  to-day 
as  ever.  She  claims  she  wishes  Texas  to  remain 
free.  She  forgets  her  own  record — forgets  the 
burning  cities  of  Rohilkhand,  the  imprisoned  prin-r 
cesses  of  Oudh!  Might  is  her  right.  She  wants 


126    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

Texas  as  a  focus  of  contention,  a  rallying  point  of 
sectionalism.  If  she  divides  us,  she  conquers  us. 
That  is  all.  She  wants  the  chance  for  the  extension 
of  her  own  hold  on  this  continent,  which  she  will 
push  as  far  and  fast  as  she  dare.  She  must  have 
cotton.  She  would  like  land  as  well." 

"That  means  also  Oregon?" 

He  nodded.  "Always  with  the  Texas  question 
comes  the  Oregon  question.  Mr.  Calhoun  is  none 
too  friendly  to  Mr.  Polk,  and  yet  he  knows  that 
through  Jackson's  influence  with  the  Southern  de 
mocracy  Polk  has  an  excellent  chance  for  the  next 
nomination  for  the  presidency.  God  knows  what 
folly  will  come  then.  But  sometime,  one  way  or  an 
other,  the  joint  occupancy  of  England  and  the 
United  States  in  the  Oregon  country  must  end.  It 
has  been  a  waiting  game  thus  far,  as  you  know ;  but 
never  think  that  England  has  been  idle.  This  meet 
ing  in  Montreal  will  prove  that  to  you." 

In  spite  of  myself,  I  began  to  feel  the  stimulus  of 
a  thought  like  this.  It  was  my  salvation  as  a  man.  I 
ibegan  to  set  aside  myself  and  my  own  troubles. 

"You  are  therefore,"  he  concluded,  "to  go  to  Mon 
treal,  and  find  your  own  way  into  that  meeting  of  the 
directors  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company.  There  is 
a  bare  chance  that  in  this  intrigue  Mexico  will  have 
an  emissary  on  the  ground  as  well.  There  is  reason 
to  suspect  her  hostility  to  all  our  plans  of  extension, 


THE    MARATHON 


southwest  and  northwest  Naturally,  it  is  the  card 
of  Mexico  to  bring  on  war,  or  accept  it  if  we  urge; 
but  only  in  case  she  has  England  as  her  ally.  Eng 
land  will  get  her  pay  by  taking  Texas,  and  what  is 
more,  by  taking  California,  which  Mexico  does  not 
value.  She  owes  England  large  sums  now.  That 
would  leave  England  owner  of  the  Pacific  coast;  for,' 
once  she  gets  California,  she  will  fight  us  then  for  all 
of  Oregon.  It  is  your  duty  to  learn  all  of  these 
matters  —  who  is  there,  what  is  done;  and  to  do  this 
without  making  known  your  own  identity." 

I  sat  for  a  moment  in  thought.  "It  is  an  honor/' 
said  I  finally;  "an  honor  so  large  that  under  it  I 
feel  small." 

"Now,"  said  Doctor  Ward,  placing  a  gnarled 
hand  on  my  shoulder,  "you  begin  to  talk  like  a  Mary- 
lander.  It's  a  race,  my  boy,  a  race  across  this  con 
tinent.  There  are  two  trails  —  one  north  and  one 
mid-continent.  On  these  paths  two  nations  con 
tend  in  the  greatest  Marathon  of  all  the  world.  Eng 
land  or  the  United  States  —  monarchy  or  republic  — 
aristocracy  or  humanity?  These  are  some  of  the 
things  which  hang  on  the  issue  of  this  contest.  Take 
then  your  duty  and  your  honor,  humbly  and  faith 
fully." 

"Good-by,"  he  said,  as  we  steamed  into  Baltimore 
station.  I  turned,  and  he  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

ON   SECRET  SERVICE 

If  the  world  was  lost  through  woman,  she  alone  can  save 
it. — Louis  de  Beaufort. 

IN  the  days  of  which  I  write,  our  civilization 
was,  as  I  may  say,  so  embryonic,  that  it  is  diffi 
cult  for  us  now  to  realize  the  conditions  which 
then  obtained.  We  had  great  men  in  those  days, 
and  great  deeds  were  done;  but  to-day,  as  one  re 
flects  upon  life  as  it  then  was,  it  seems  almost  im 
possible  that  they  and  their  deeds  could  have  existed 
in  a  time  so  crude  and  immature. 

The  means  of  travel  in  its  best  form  was  at  that 
time  at  least  curious.  We  had  several  broken  rail 
way  systems  north  and  south,  but  there  were  not 
then  more  than  five  thousand  miles  of  railway  built 
in  America.  All  things  considered,  I  felt  lucky  when 
we  reached  New  York  less  than  twenty-four  hours 
out  from  Washington. 

From  New  York  northward  to  Montreal  one's 
journey  involved  a  choice  of  routes.  One  might  go 
up  the  Hudson  River  by  steamer  to  Albany,  and 
thence  work  up  the  Champlain  Lake  system,  above 

128 


ON    SECRET    SERVICE  129 

which  one  might  employ  a  short  stretch  of  rails  be 
tween  St.  John  and  La  Prairie,  on  the  banks  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  opposite  Montreal.  Or,  one  might  go 
from  Albany  west  by  rail  as  far  as  Syracuse,  up  the 
Mohawk  Valley,  and  so  to  Oswego,  where  on  Lake 
Ontario  one  might  find  steam  or  sailing  craft. 

Up  the  Hudson  I  took  the  crack  steamer  Swallow 
the  same  which  just  one  year  later  was  sunk  while 
trying  to  beat  her  own  record  of  nine  hours  and  two 
minutes  from  New  York  to  Albany.  She  required 
eleven  hours  on  our  trip.  Under  conditions  then  ob 
taining,  it  took  me  a  day  and  a  half  more  to  reach 
Lake  Ontario.  Here,  happily,  I  picked  up  a  frail 
steam  craft,  owned  by  an  adventurous  soul  who  was 
not  unwilling  to  risk  his  life  and  that  of  others  on 
the  uncertain  and  ice-filled  waters  of  Ontario.  With 
him  I  negotiated  to  carry  me  with  others  down  the 
St.  Lawrence.  At  that  time,  of  course,  the  Lachine 
Canal  was  not  completed,  and  the  Victoria  Bridge 
was  not  even  conceived  as  a  possibility.  One  delay 
after  another  with  broken  machinery,  lack  of  fuel, 
running  ice  and  what  not,  required  five  days  more  of 
my  time  ere  I  reached  Montreal. 

I  could  not  be  called  either  officer  or  spy,  yet  none 
the  less  I  did  not  care  to  be  recognized  here  in  the 
capacity  of  one  over-curious.  I  made  up  my  cos 
tume  as  that  of  an  innocent  free  trader  from  the 
Western  fur  country  of  the  states,  and  was  able, 


130    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

from  my  earlier  experiences,  to  answer  any  ques 
tions  as  to  beaver  at  Fort  Hall  or  buffalo  on  the 
Yellowstone  or  the  Red.  Thus  I  passed  freely  in 
and  about  all  the  public  places  of  the  town,  and  in 
spected  with  a  certain  personal  interest  all  its  points 
of  interest,  from  the  Gray  Nunneries  to  thtj  new 
cathedrals,  the  Place  d'Armes,  the  Champ  de  Mars, 
che  barracks,  the  vaunted  brewery,  the  kistoric 
mountain,  and  the  village  lying  between  the  a. mis  of 
the  two  rivers — a  point  where  history  for  &  great 
country  had  been  made,  and  where  history  ior  our 
own  now  was  planning. 

As  I  moved  about  from  day  to  day,  maka  g  such 
acquaintance  as  I  could,  I  found  in  the  air  a  feel 
ing  of  excitement  and  expectation.  The  hotels,  bad 
as  they  were,  were  packed.  The  public  places  were 
noisy,  the  private  houses  crowded.  Gradually  the 
town  became  half-military  and  half-savage.  Per 
sons  of  importance  arrived  by  steamers  up  the  river, 
on  whose  expanse  lay  boats  which  might  be  bound 
for  England — or  for  some  of  England's  colonies. 
The  Government — not  yet  removed  to  Ottawa,  later 
capital  of  Ontario — was  then  housed  in  the  old. 
Chateau  Ramezay,  built  so  long  before  for  the 
French  governor,  Vaudreuil. 

Here,  I  had  reason  to  believe,  was  now  established 
no  less  a  personage  than  Sir  George  Simpson,  (jrov- 
ernor  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company.  Rumor  had 


ON    SECRET    SERVICE  131 

it  at  the  time  that  Lord  Aberdeen  of  England  him 
self  was  at  Montreal.  That  was  not  true,  but  I  es 
tablished  without  doubt  tnat  his  brother  really  was 
there,  as  well  as  Lieutenant  William  Peel  of  the 
Navy,  son  of  Sir  Robert  Peel,  England's  prime 
minister.  The  latter,  with  his  companion,  Captain, 
Parke,  was  one  time  pointed  out  to  me  proudly  by 
my  inn-keeper — two  young  gentlemen,  clad  in  the 
ultra  fashion  of  their  country,  with  very  wide  and 
tall  bell  beavers,  narrow  trousers,  and  strange  long 
sack-coats  unknown  to  us  in  the  States — of  little 
^nape  or  elegance,  it  seemed  to  me. 

There  was  expectancy  in  the  air,  that  was  sure. 
It  was  open  secret  enough  in  England,  as  well  as  in 
Montreal  and  in  Washington,  that  a  small  army  of 
American  settlers  had  set  out  the  foregoing  summer 
for  the  valley  of  the  Columbia,  some  said  under 
leadership  of  the  missionary  Whitman.  Britain  was 
this  year  awakening  to  the  truth  that  these  men  had 
gone  thither  for  a  purpose.  Here  now  was  a  congress 
of  Great  Britain's  statesmen,  leaders  of  Great  Brit 
ain's  greatest  monopoly,  the  Hudson  Bay  Com 
pany,  to  weigh  this  act  of  the  audacious  American 
Republic.  I  was  not  a  week  in  Montreal  before  I 
learned  that  my  master's  guess,  or  his  information, 
had  been  correct.  The  race  was  on  for  Oregon ! 

All  these  things,  I  say,  I  saw  go  on  about  me.  Yet 
in  truth  as  to  the  inner  workings  of  this  I  could  gain 


132     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

but  little  actual  information.  I  saw  England's 
ships,  but  it  was  not  for  me  to  know  whether  they 
were  to  turn  Cape  Hope  or  the  Horn.  I  saw  Can 
ada's  voyageurs,  but  they  might  be  only  on  their 
annual  journey,  and  might  go  no  farther  than  their 
accustomed  posts  in  the  West.  In  French  town  and 
English  town,  among  common  soldiers,  voyageurs, 
inn-keepers  and  merchants,  I  wandered  for  more 
than  one  day  and  felt  myself  still  helpless. 

That  is  to  say,  such  was  the  case  until  there  came 
to  my  aid  that  greatest  of  all  allies,  Chance. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  OTHER   WOMAN 

The  world  is  the  book  of  women. — Rousseau. 

I  NEEDED  not  to  be  advised  that  presently  there 
would  be  a  meeting  of  some  of  the  leading  men 
of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  at  the  little  gray 
stone,  dormer-windowed  building  on  Notre  Dame 
Street.  In  this  old  building — in  whose  vaults  at  one 
time  of  emergency  was  stored  the  entire  currency 
of  the  Canadian  treasury — there  still  remained  some 
government  records,  and  now  under  the  steep- 
pitched  roof  affairs  were  to  be  transacted  somewhat 
larger  than  the  dimensions  of  the  building  might 
have  suggested.  The  keeper  of  my  inn  freely  made 
me  a  list  of  those  who  would  be  present — a  list  em 
bracing  so  many  scores  of  prominent  men  whom  he 
then  swore  to  be  in  the  city  of  Montreal  that,  had  the 
old  Chateau  Ramezay  afforded  twice  its  room,  they 
could  not  all  have  been  accommodated.  For  myself, 
it  was  out  of  the  question  to  gain  admittance. 

In  those  days  all  Montreal  was  iron-shuttered\ 
after  nightfall,  resembling  a  series  of  jails ;  and  to 
night  it  seemed  doubly  screened  and  guarded.  None 

133 


134     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

the  less,  late  in  the  evening,  I  allowed  seeming  ac 
cident  to  lead  me  in  a  certain  direction.  Passing  as 
often  as  I  might  up  and  down  Notre  Dame  Street 
without  attracting  attention,  I  saw  more  than  one 
figure  in  the  semi-darkness  enter  the  low  chateau 
door.  Occasionally  a  tiny  gleam  showed  at  the 
edge  of  a  shutter  or  at  the  top  of  some  little  window 
not  fully  screened.  As  to  what  went  on  within  I 
could  only  guess. 

I  passed  the  chateau,  up  and  down,  at  different 
times  from  nine  o'clock  until  midnight  The  streets 
of  Montreal  at  that  time  made  brave  pretense  of 
lighting  by  virtue  of  the  new  gas  works;  at  certain 
intervals  flickering  and  wholly  incompetent  lights 
serving  to  make  the  gloom  more  visible.  None  the 
less,  as  I  passed  for  the  last  time,  I  plainly  saw  a 
shaft  of  light  fall  upon  the  half  darkness  from  a 
little  side  door.  There  emerged  upon  the  street  the 
figure  of  a  woman.  I  do  not  know  what  led  me  to 
cast  a  second  glance,  for  certainly  my  business  was 
not  with  ladies,  any  more  than  I  would  have  sup 
posed  ladies  had  business  there;  but,  victim  of  some 
impulse  of  curiosity,  I  walked  a  step  or  two  in  the 
same  direction  as  that  taken  by  the  cloaked  figure. 

Careless  as  I  endeavored  to  make  my  movements, 
the  veiled  lady  seemed  to  take  suspicion  or  fright. 
She  quickened  her  steps.  Accident  favored  me. 
Even  as  she  fled,  she  caught  her  skirt  on  some  object 


THE   OTHER   WOMAN  135 

which  lay  hidden  in  the  shadows  and  fell  almost  at 
-full  length.  This  I  conceived  to  be  opportunity 
warranting  my  approach.  I  raised  my  hat  and  as 
sured  her  that  her  flight  was  needless. 

She  made  no  direct  reply  to  me,  but  as  she  rose 
gave  utterance  to  an  expression  of  annoyance.  "Mon 
Dieu!"  I  heard  her  say. 

I  stood  for  a  moment  trying  to  recall  where  I  had 
heard  this  same  voice !  She  turned  her  face  in  such 
a  way  that  the  light  illuminated  it  Then  indeed 
surprise  smote  me. 

"Madam  Baroness,"  said  I,  laughing,  "it  is  wholly 
impossible  for  you  to  be  here,  yet  you  are  here! 
Never  again  will  I  say  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
chance,  no  such  thing  as  fate,  no  such  thing  as  a 
miracle!" 

She  looked  at  me  one  brief  moment;  then  her 
courage  returned. 

"Ah,  then,  my  idiot,"  she  said,  "since  it  is  to  be 
our  fortune  always  to  meet  of  dark  nights  and  in 
impossible  ways,  give  me  your  arm." 

I  laughed.  "We  may  as  well  make  treaty.  It 
you  run  again,  i  shall  only  follow  you." 

"Then  I  am  again  your  prisoner?" 

"Madam,  I  again  am  yours!" 

"At  least,  you  improve !"  said  she.    "Then  come." 

"Shall  I  not  call  a  catech*?—1hc  night  is  dark." 

"No,  no!"  hurriedly. 


136    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

We  began  a  midnight  course  that  took  us  quite 
across  the  old  French  quarter  of  Montreal.  At  last 
she  turned  into  a  small,  dark  street  of  modest  one- 
story  residences,  iron-shuttered,  dark  and  cheerless. 
Here  she  paused  in  front  of  a  narrow  iron  gate. 

"Madam,"  I  said,  "you  represent  to  me  one  of  the 
problems  of  my  life.     Why  does  your  taste  run-  to  i 
such  quarters  as  these?    This  might  be  that  same 
back  street  in  Washington !" 

She  chuckled  to  herself,  at  length  laughed  aloud. 
"But  wait!  If  you  entered  my  abode  once,"  she 
said,  "why  not  again?  Come." 

Her  hand  was  at  the  heavy  knocker  as  she  spoke. 
In  a  moment  the  door  slowly  opened,  just  as  it  had 
done  that  night  before  in  Washington.  My  com 
panion  passed  before  me  swiftly.  As  she  entered  I 
saw  standing  at  the  opening  the  same  brown  and 
wrinkled  old  dame  who  had  served  that  night  before 
in  Washington! 

For  an  instant  the  light  dazzled  my  eyes,  but,  de 
termined  now  to  see  this  adventure  through,  I 
stepped  within.  Then,  indeed,  I  found  it  difficult  to 
stifle  the  exclamation  of  surprise  which  came  to  my 
lips.  Believe  it  or  not,  as  you  like,  we  were  again 
in  Washington ! 

I  say  that  I  was  confronted  by  the  identical  ar 
rangement,  the  identical  objects  of  furnishing,  which 
had  marked  the  luxurious  boudoir  of  Helena  von 


THE    OTHER    WOMAN  137 

Ritz  in  Washington  !  The  tables  were  the  same,  the 
chairs,  the  mirrors,  the  consoles.  On  the  mantel 
stood  the  same  girandoles  with  glittering  crystals. 
The  pictures  upon  the  walls,  so  far  as  I  could  re 
member  their  themes,  did  not  deviate  in  any  par 
ticular  of  detail  or  arrangement.  The  oval-backed 
chairs  were  duplicates  of  those  I  had  seen  that  other 
night  at  midnight.  Beyond  these  same  amber  satin 
curtains  stood  the  tall  bed  with  its  canopy,  as  I  could 
see;  and  here  at  the  right  was  the  same  low  Napo 
leon  bed  with  its  rolled  ends.  The  figures  of  the 
carpets  were  the  same,  their  deep-piled  richness, 
soft  under  foot,  the  same.  The  flowered  cups  of  the 
sconces  were  identical  writh  those  I  had  seen  before. 
To  my  eye,  even  as  it  grew  more  studious,  there  ap 
peared  no  divergence,  no  difference,  between  these 
apartments  and  those  I  had  so  singularly  visited — 
and  yet  under  circumstances  so  strangely  akin  to 
these — in  the  capital  of  my  own  country ! 

"You  are  good  enough  to  admire  my  modest 
place,"  said  a  laughing  voice  at  my  shoulder.  Then 
indeed  I  waked  and  looked  about  me,  and  saw  that 
.this,  stranger  than  any  mirage  of  the  brain,  was  but 
a  fact  and  must  later  be  explained  by  the  laborious 
processes  of  the  feeble  reason. 

I  turned  to  her  then,  pulling  myself  together  as 
best  I  could.  Yes,  she  too  was  the  same,  although 
in  this  case  costumed  somewhat  differently.  The 


138     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

wide  ball  gown  of  satin  was  gone,  and  in  its  place 
was  a  less  pretentious  robing  of  some  darker  silk.  I 
remembered  distinctly  that  the  flowers  upon  the 
white  satin  gown  I  first  had  seen  were  pink  roses. 
Here  were  flowers  of  the  crocus,  cunningly  woven 
into  the  web  of  the  gown  itself.  The  slippers  which 
I  now  saw  peeping  out  as  she  passed  were  not  of 
white  satin,  but  better  foot  covering  for  the  street. 
She  cast  over  the  back  of  a  chair,  as  she  had  done 
that  other  evening,  her  light  shoulder  covering,  a 
dark  mantle,  not  of  lace  now,  but  of  some  tkin 
cloth.  Her  jewels  were  gone,  and  the  splendor  of 
her  dark  hair  was  free  of  decoration.  No  pale  blue 
fires  shone  at  her  white  throat,  and  her  hands  were 
ringless.  But  the  light,  firm  poise  of  her  figure 
could  not  be  changed;  the  mockery  of  her  glance 
remained  the  same,  half  laughing  and  half  wistful. 
The  strong  curve  of  her  lips  remained,  and  I  re 
called  this  arch  of  brow,  the  curve  of  neck  and  chin, 
the  droop  of  the  dark  locks  above  her  even  forehead. 
» Yes,  it  was  she.  It  could  be  no  one  else. 

She  clapped  her  hands  and  laughed  like  a  child 
as  she  turned  to  me.  "Bravo !"  she  said.  "My 
judgment,  then,  was  quite  correct." 

"In  regard  to  what?" 

"Yourself !" 

"Pardon  me?" 

"You  do  not  show  curiosity !    You  do  not  ask  me 


THE    OTHER   WOMAN  139 

questions !  Good !  I  think  I  shall  ask  you  to  wait. 
I  say  to  you  frankly  that  I  am  alone  here.  It  pleases 
me  to  live — as  pleases  me !  You  are  alone  in  Mont- 

•  real.    Why  should  we  not  please  ourselves  ?" 

In  some  way  which  I  did  not  pause  to  analyze,  I 
felt  perfectly  sure  that  this  strange  woman  could,  if 
she  cared  to  do  so,  tell  me  some  of  the  things  I  ought 
to  know.  She  might  be  here  on  some  errand  iden 
tical  with  my  own.  Calhoun  had  sent  for  her  once 
before.  Whose  agent  was  she  now?  I  found  chairs 
for  us  both. 

An  instant  later,  summoned  in  what  way  I  do  not 
know,  the  old  serving-woman  again  reappeared. 
"Wine,  Threlka,"  said  the  baroness;  "service  for 
two — you  may  use  this  little  table.  Monsieur,"  she 
added,  turning  to  me,  "I  am  most  happy  to  make 
even  some  slight  return  for  the  very  gracious  en 
tertainment  offered  me  that  morning  by  Mr.  Cal- 
*houn  at  his  residence.  Such  a  droll  manJ  Oh, 
la!  la!" 

"Are  you  his  friend,  Madam?"  I  asked  bluntly. 

-  "Why  should  I  not  be?" 

*  could  frame  neither  offensive  nor  defensive  art 
with  her.  She  mocked  me. 

In  a  few  moments  the  weazened  old  woman  was 
back  with  cold  fowl,  wine,  napery,  silver. 

"Will  Monsieur  carve?"  At  her  nod  the  old 
Woman  filled  my  glass,  after  my  hostess  had  tasted 


140     FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

of  her  own.  We  had  seated  ourselves  at  the  table  as 
she  spoke. 

"Not  so  bad  for  a  black  midnight,  eh?"  she  went 
or/,  "-—in  a  strange  town — and  on  a  strange  errand? 
And  again  let  me  express  my  approbation  of  your 
conduct." 

"If  it  pleases  you,  'tis  more  than  I  can  say  of  ii 
for  myself,"  I  began.  "But  why?" 

"Because  you  ask  no  questions.  You  take  things 
as  they  come.  I  did  not  expect  you  would  come  to 
Montreal." 

"Then  you  know — but  of  course,  I  told  you." 

"Have  you  then  no  question?"  she  went  on  at  last. 
Her  glass  stood  half  full;  her  wrists  rested  gently 
on  the  table  edge,  as  she  leaned  back,  looking  at  me 
with  that  on  her  face  which  he  had  needed  to  be 
wiser  than  myself,  who  could  have  read. 

"May  I,  then?" 

"Yes,  now  you  may  go  on." 

"I  thank  you.  First,  of  course,  for  what  reason  do 
you  carry  the  secrets  of  my  government  into  the 
stronghold  of  another  government?  Are  you  the 
friend  of  America,  or  are  you  a  spy  upon  America  ? 
Are  you  my  friend,  or  are  we  to  be  enemies  to 
night?" 

She  flung  back  her  head  and  laughed  delightedly. 
"That  is  a  good  beginning,"  she  commented. 

"You  must,  at  a  guess,  have  come  up  by  way  of 


THE    OTHER    WOMAN  14* 

the  lakes,  and  by  batteau  from  La  Prairie?"  I  ven 
tured. 

She  nodded  again.  "Of  course.  I  have  been  here 
six  days." 

"Indeed? — you  have  badly  beaten  me  in  our  little 
race." 

She  flashed  on  me  a  sudden  glance.  "Why  dc 
you  not  ask  me  outright  why  I  am  here?" 

"Well,  then,  I  do !  I  do  ask  you  that.  I  ask  you 
how  you  got  access  to  that  meeting  to-night — for  I 
doubt  not  you  were  there  ?" 

She  gazed  at  me  deliberately  again,  parting  her 
red  lips,  again  smiling  at  me.  "What  would  you 
have  given  to  have  been  there  yourself?" 

"All  the  treasures  those  vaults  ever  held." 

"So  much?  What  will  you  give  me,  then,  to  tell 
you  what  I  know?" 

"More  than  all  that  treasure,  Madam.    A  place — " 

"Ah !  a  'place  in  the  heart  of  a  people!'  I  prefer 
a  locality  more  restricted." 

"In  my  own  heart,  then;  yes,  of  course!" 

She  helped  herself  daintily  to  a  portion  of  the 
white  meat  of  the  fowl.  "Yes,"  she  went  on,  as 
though  speaking  to  herself,  "on  the  whole,  I  rather 
like  him.  Yet  what  a  fool !  Ah,  such  a  droll  idiot !" 

"How  so,  Madam?"  I  expostulated.  "I  thought  I 
was  doing  very  well." 

"Yet  you  can  not  guess  how  to  persuade  me?" 


14*     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"No;  how  could  that  be?" 

"Always  one  gains  by  offering  some  equivalent, 
value  for  value — especially  with  women,  Monsieur/' 

She  went  on  as  though  to  herself.  "Come,  now,  I 
fancy  him !  He  is  handsome,  he  is  discreet,  he  has 
courage,  he  is  not  usual,  he  is  not  curious;  but  ah, 
mon  Dieu,  what  a  fool !" 

"Admit  me  to  be  a  fool,  Madam,  since  it  is  true; 
but  tell  me  in  my  folly  what  equivalent  I  can  offer 
one  who  has  everything  in  the  world — wealth,  taste, 
culture,  education,  wit,  learning,  beauty?" 

"Goon!    Excellent!" 

"Who  has  everything  as  against  my  nothing! 
What  value,  Madam?" 

"Why,  gentle  idiot,  to  get  an  answer  ask  a  ques 
tion,  always." 

"I  have  asked  it." 

"But  you  can  not  guess  that  /  might  ask  one?  So, 
then,  one  answer  for  another,  we  might  do — what 
you  Americans  call  some  business — eh?  Will  you 
answer  my  question  ?" 

"Ask  it,  then." 

"Were  you  married — that  other  night?" 

So,  then,  she  was  woman  after  all,  and  curious! 
Her  sudden  speech  came  like  a  stab ;  but  fortunately 
my  dull  nerves  had  not  had  time  to  change  my  face 
before  a  thought  flashed  into  my  mind.  Could  I  not 


THE    OTHER   WOMAN  143 

make  merchandise  of  my  sorrow?  I  pulled  myself 
into  control  and  looked  her  fair  in  the  face. 

"Madam,"  I  said,  "look  at  my  £ace  and  read  your 
own  answer." 

She  looked,  searching  me,  while  every  nerve  of 
me  tingled ;  but  at  last  she  shook  her  head.  "No," 
she  sighed.  "I  can  not  yet  say."  She  did  not  see  the 
sweat  starting  on  my  forehead. 

I  raised  my  kerchief  over  my  head.  "A  truce, 
then,  Madam !  Let  us  leave  the  one  question  against 
the  other  for  a  time." 

"Excellent!  I  shall  get  my  answer  first,  in  that 
case,  and  for  nothing." 

"How  so?" 

"I  shall  only  watch  you.  As  we  are  here  now,  I 
were  a  fool,  worse  than  you,  if  I  could  not  tell 
whether  or  not  you  are  married.  None  the  less,  I 
commend  you,  I  admire  you,  because  you  do  not  tell 
me.  If  you  are  not,  you  are  disappointed.  If  you 
are,  you  are  eager !" 

"I  am  in  any  case  delighted  that  I  can  interest 
Madam." 

"Ah,  but  you  do !  I  have  not  been  interested,  for 
(so  long!  Ah,  the  great  heavens,  how  fat  was  Mr. 
Pakenham,  how  thin  was  Mr.  Calhoun !  But  you — • 
come,  Monsieur,  the  night  is  long.  Tell  me  of  your 
self.  I  have  never  before  known  a  savage." 


'144     FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

"Value  for  value  only,  Madam !  Will  you  tell  me 
in  turn  of  yourself?" 

"All?"    She  looked  at  me  curiously. 

"Only  so  much  as  Madam  wishes." 

I  saw  her  dark  eyes  study  me  once  more.  At  last 
she  spoke  again.  "At  least,"  she  said,  "it  would  be 
rather  vulgar  if  I  did  not  explain  some  of  the  things 
which  become  your  right  to  know  when  I  ask  you  to 
come  into  this  home,  as  into  my  other  home  in 
Washington." 

"In  Heaven's  name,  how  many  of  these  homes 
have  you,  then  ?  Are  they  all  alike?" 

"Five  only,  now,"  she  replied,  in  the  most  matter- 
of-fact  manner  in  the  world,  "and,  of  course,  all 
quite  alike." 

"Where  else?" 

"In  Paris,  in  Vienna,  in  London,"  she  answered. 
"You  see  this  one,  you  see  them  all.  'Tis  far  cooler 
in  Montreal  than  in  Washington  in  the  summer  time. 
Do  you  not  approve?" 

"The  arrangement  could  not  be  surpassed." 

"Thank  you.  So  I  have  thought.  The  mere 
charm  of  difference  does  not  appeal  to  me.  Certain 
things  my  judgment  approves.  They  serve,  they 
suffice.  This  little  scheme  it  has  pleased  me  to  re 
produce  in  some  of  the  capitals  of  the  world.  It  is 
at  least  as  well  chosen  as  the  taste  of  the  Prince  of 
Orleans,  son  of  Louis  Philippe,  could  advise." 


THE    OTHER   WOMAN  145 

This  with  no  change  of  expression.  I  drew  a  long 
breath. 

She  went  on  as  though  I  had  spoken.  "My 
friend,"  she  said,  "do  not  despise  me  too  early. 
There  is  abundant  time.  Before  you  judge,  let  the 
testimony  be  heard.  I  love  men  who  can  keep  their 
own  tongues  and  their  own  hands  to  themselves." 

"I  am  not  your  judge,  Madam,  but  it  will  be  long 
before  I  shall  think  a  harsh  thought  of  you.  Tell 
me  what  a  woman  may.  Do  not  tell  me  what  a 
secret  agent  may  not.  I  ask  no  promises  and  make 
none.  You  are  very  beautiful.  You  have  wealth. 
I  call  you  'Madam.'  You  are  married?" 

"I  was  married  at  fifteen." 

"At  fifteen !    And  your  husband  died?" 

"He  disappeared." 

"Your  own  country  was  Austria?" 

"Call  me  anything  but  Austrian !  I  left  my  coun 
try  because  I  saw  there  only  oppression  and  lack  of 
hope.  No,  I  am  Hungarian." 

"That  I  could  have  guessed.  They  say  the  most 
(beautiful  women  of  the  world  come  from  that  coun- 
try." 

"Thank  you.    Is  that  all?" 

"I  should  guess  then  perhaps  you  went  to  Paris?" 

"Of  course,"  she  said,  "of  course!  of  course!  In 
time  reasons  existed  why  I  should  not  return  to  my 
home.  I  had  some  little  fortune,  some  singular  ex- 


146    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

periences,  some  ambitions  of  my  own.   What  I  did, 
I  did.  At  least,  I  saw  the  best  and  worst  of  Europe." 

She  raised  a  hand  as  though  to  brush  something 
from  before  her  face.  "Allow  me  to  give  you  wine. 
Well,  then,  Monsieur  knows  that  when  I  left  Paris  I 
felt  that  part  of  my  studies  were  complete.  I  hadi 
seen  a  little  more  of  government,  a  little  more  of 
humanity,  a  little  more  of  life,  a  little  more  of  men. 
It  was  not  men  but  mankind  that  I  studied  most.  I 
had  seen  much  of  injustice  and  hopelessness  and  de 
spair.  These  made  the  fate  of  mankind — in  that 
world." 

"I  have  heard  vaguely  of  some  such  things, 
Madam,"  I  said.  "I  know  that  in  Europe  they  have 
still  the  fight  which  we  sought  to  settle  when  we  left 
that  country  for  this  one." 

She  nodded.  "So  then,  at  last,"  she  went  on, 
"still  young,  having  learned  something  and  having 
now  those  means  of  carrying  on  my  studies  which  I 
required,  I  came  to  this  Last  of- the  countries,  Amer 
ica,  where,  if  anywhere,  hope  for  mankind  remains. 
Washington  has  impressed  me  more  than  any  capital 
of  the  world." 

"How  long  have  you  been  in  Washington?"  I* 
asked. 

"Now  you  begin  to  question — now  you  show  at 
last  curiosity!  Well,  then,  I  shall  answer.  For 


THE    OTHER   WOMAN  14? 

more  than  one  year,  perhaps  more  than  two,  per 
haps  more  than  three!" 

"Impossible !"  I  shook  my  head.  "A  woman  like 
you  could  not  be  concealed — not  if  she  owned  a  hun 
dred  hidden  places  such  as  this." 

"Oh,  I  was  known,"  she  said.  "You  have  heard| 
of  me,  you  knew  of  me?" 

I  still  shook  my  head.  "No,"  said  I,  "I  have  been 
far  in  the  West  for  several  years,  and  have  come  to 
Washington  but  rarely.  Bear  me  out,  I  had  not  been 
there  my  third  day  before  I  found  you !" 

We  sat  silent  for  some  moments,  fixedly  regard 
ing  each  other.  I  have  said  that  a  more  beautiful 
face  than  hers  I  had  never  seen.  There  sat  upon  it 
now  many  things — youth,  eagerness,  ambition,  a 
certain  defiance;  but,  above  all,  a  pleading  pathos! 
I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart,  eager  as  I  was,  to 
question  her  further.  Apparently  she  valued  this 
reticence. 

"You  condemn  me?"  she  asked  at  length.  "Be 
cause  I  live  alone,  because  quiet  rumor  wags  a 
tongue,  you  will  judge  me  by  your  own  creed  and 
not  by  mine?" 

I  hesitated  before  I  answered,  and  deliberated. 
"Madam,  I  have  already  told  you  that  I  would  not. 
I  say  once  more  that  I  accredit  you  with  living  up 
to  your  own  creed,  whatever  that  may  have  been." 


148     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

She  drew  a  long  breath  in  turn.  "Monsieur,  you 
have  done  yourself  no  ill  turn  in  that" 

"It  was  rumored  in  diplomatic  circles,  of  course, 
that  you  were  in  touch  with  the  ministry  of  Eng- 
'land,"  I  ventured.  "I  myself  saw  that  much." 

"Naturally.  Of  Mexico  also !  At  least,  as  you  saw 
in  our  little  carriage  race,  Mexico  was  desirous 
enough  to  establish  some  sort  of  communication  with 
my  humble  self!" 

"Calhoun  was  right!"  I  exclaimed.  "He  was  en 
tirely  right,  Madam,  in  insisting  that  I  should  bring 
you  to  him  that  morning,  whether  or  not  you  wished 
to  go." 

"Whim  fits  with  whim  sometimes.  'Twas  his  whim 
to  see  me,  mine  to  go." 

"I  wonder  what  the  Queen  of  Sheba  would  have 
said  had  Solomon  met  her  thus !" 

She  chuckled  at  the  memory.  "You  see,  when  you 
left  me  at  Mr.  Calhoun's  door  in  care  of  the  Grand 
Vizier  James,  I  wondered  somewhat  at  this  strange 
country  of  America.  The  entresol  was  dim  and  the 
Grand  Vizier  was  slow  with  candles.  I  half  fell  into 
the  room  on  the  right.  There  was  Mr.  Calhoun  bolt 
upright  in  his  chair,  both  hands  spread  out  on  the 
arms.  As  you  promised,  he  wore  a  red  nightcap  and 
long  gown  of  wool.  He  was  asleep,  and  ah !  how 
weary  he  seemed.  Never  have  I  seen  a  face  so  sad 
as  his,  asleep.  He  was  gray  and  thin,  his  hair  was 


THE    OTHER   WOMAN  149 

gray  and  thin,  his  eyes  were  sunken,  the  veins  were 
corded  at  his  temples,  his  hands  were  transparent. 
He  was,  as  you  promised  me,  old.  Yet  when  I  saw 
him  I  did  not  smile.  He  heard  me  stir  as  I  would 
have  withdrawn,  and  when  he  arose  to  his  feet  he 
was  wide-awake.  Monsieur,  he  is  a  great  man ;  be 
cause,  even  so  clad  he  made  no  more  apology  than 
you  do,  showed  no  more  curiosity ;  and  he  welcomed 
me  quite  as  a  gentleman  unashamed — as  a  king,  if 
you  please." 

"How  did  he  receive  you,  Madam?"  I  asked.  "I 
never  knew." 

"Why,  took  my  hand  in  both  his,  and  bowed  as 
though  I  indeed  were  queen,  he  a  king." 

"Then  you  got  on  well?" 

"Truly;  for  he  was  wiser  than  his  agent,  Mon 
sieur.  He  found  answers  by  asking  questions." 

"Ah,  you  were  kinder  to  him  than  to  me?" 

"Naturally." 

"For  instance,  he  asked — " 

"What  had  been  my  ball  gown  that  night — who 
was  there — how  I  enjoyed  myself !  In  a  moment  we 
••were  talking  as  though  we  had  been  friends  for 
years.  The  Grand  Vizier  brought  in  two  mugs  of 
cider,  in  each  a  toasted  apple.  Monsieur,  I  have  not 
seen  diplomacy  such  as  this.  Naturally,  I  was  help 
less." 

"Did  he  perhaps  ask  how  you  were  induced  to 


150     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

come  at  so  impossible  a  time  ?    My  own  vanity,  nat« 
urally,  leads  me  to  ask  so  much  as  that." 

"No,  Mr.  Calh^un  confined  himself  to  the  essen 
tials  !  Even  had  he  asked  me  I  could  not  have  re 
plied,  because  J.  do  not  know,  save  that  it  was  to  me  '« 
whim.  But  at  least  we  talked,  over  our  cider  and 
toasted  apples." 

"You  told  him  somewhat  of  yourself?'* 
"He  did  not  allow  me  to  do  that,  Monsieur." 
"But  he  told  you  somewhat  of  this  country?" 
"Ah,  yes,  yes !     So  then  I  saw  what  held  him  up 
in  his  work,  what  kept  him  alive.     I  saw  something 
I  have  not  often  seen — a  purpose,  a  principle,  in  a 
public  man.    His  love  for  his  own  land  touched  even 
me,  how  or  why  I  scarcely  know.     Yes,  we  spoke  of 
the  poor,  the  oppressed,  of  the  weary  and  the  heavy 
laden." 

"Did  he  ask  you  what  you  knew  of  Mexico  and 
England?" 

"Rather  what  I  knew  of  the  poor  in  Europe.  I 
told  him  some  things  I  knew  of  that  hopeless  land, 
that  priest-ridden,  king-ridden  country — my  own' 
land.  Then  he  went  on  to  tell  me  of  America  and 
its  hope  of  a  free  democracy  of  the  people.  Believe 
me,  I  listened  to  Mr.  Calhoun.  Never  mind  what 
we  said  of  Mr.  Van  Zandt  and  Sir  Richard  Paken- 
ham.  At  least,  as  you  know,  I  paid  off  a  little  score 
with  Sir  Richard  that  next  morning.  What  was 


THE    OTHER   WOMAN  151 

strangest  to  me  was  the  fact  that  I  forgot  Mr.  Cal- 
houn's  attire,  forgot  the  strangeness  of  my  errand 
thither.  It  was  as  though  only  our  minds  talked, 
one  with  the  other.  I  was  sorry  when  at  last  cams 
the  Grand  Vizier  James  to  take  Mr.  Calhoun's  order 
for  his  own  carriage,  that  brought  me  home — my 
second  and  more  peaceful  arrival  there  that  night. 
The  last  I  saw  of  Mr.  Calhoun  was  with  the  Grand 
Vizier  James  putting  a  cloak  about  him  and  leading 
him  by  force  from  his  study  to  his  bed,  as  I  presume. 
As  for  me,  I  slept  no  more  that  night.  Monsieur,  I 
admit  that  I  saw  the  purpose  of  a  great  man.  Yes; 
and  of  a  great  country/' 

"Then  I  did  not  fail  as  messenger,  after  all !  You 
told  Mr.  Calhoun  what  he  desired  to  know?" 

"In  part  at  least.  But  come  now,  was  I  not  bound 
in  some  sort  of  honor  to  my  great  and  good  friend, 
Sir  Richard?  Was  it  not  treachery  enough  to  re 
buke  him  for  his  attentions  to  the  Dona  Lucrezia?" 

"But  you  promised  to  tell  Mr.  Calhoun  more  at  a 
later  time?" 

"On  certain  conditions  I  did,"  she  assented.  , 

"I  do  not  know  that  I  may  ask  those?" 

"You  would  be  surprised  if  I  told  you  the  truth? 

What  I  required  of  Mr.  Calhoun  was  permission  and 

aid  still  further  to  study  his  extraordinary  country, 

its  extraordinary  ways,  its  extraordinary  ignorance 

of  itself.    I  have  told  you  that  I  needed  to  travel,  to 


152     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

study,  to  observe  mankind — and  those  governments 
invented  or  tolerated  by  mankind." 

"Since  then,  Madam/'  I  concluded,  stepping  to 
assist  her  with  her  chair,  as  she  signified  her  com 
pletion  of  our  repast,  "since  you  do  not  feel  now  in 
clined  to  be  specific,  I  feel  that  I  ought  to  make  my 
adieux,  for  the  time  at  least.  It  grows  late.  I  shall 
remember  this  little  evening  all  my  life.  I  own  my 
defeat.  I  do  not  know  why  you  are  here,  or  for 
whom." 

"At  what  hotel  do  you  stop?" 

"The  Httle  place  of  Jacques  Bertillon,  a  square  or 
so  beyond  the  Place  d'Armes." 

"In  that  case,"  said  she,  "believe  me,  it  would  be 
more  discreet  for  you  to  remain  unseen  in  Montreal. 
No  matter  which  flag  is  mine,  I  may  say  that  much 
for  a  friend  and  comrade  in  the  service." 

"But  what  else?" 

She  looked  about  her.  "Be  my  guest  to-night!" 
she  said  suddenly.  "There  is  danger — " 

"For  me?"  I  laughed.  "At  my  hotel?  On  the 
^streets?" 

"No,  for  me." 

"Where?" 

"Here." 

"And  of  what,  Madam?" 

"Of  a  man ;  for  the  first  time  I  am  afraid,  in  spite 
of  all." 


THE    OTHER   WOMAN  155 

I  looked  at  her  straight.  "Are  you  not  afraid  of 
me?"  I  asked. 

She  looked  at  me  fairly,  her  color  coming.  "With 
the  fear  which  draws  a  woman  to  a  man,"  she  said. 

"Whereas,  mine  is  the  fear  which  causes  a  man  to 
flee  from  himself !" 

"But  you  will  remain  for  my  protection  ?  I  should 
feel  safer.  Besides,  in  that  case  I  should  know  the 
answer." 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"I  should  know  whether  or  not  you  were  mar 
ried!" 


CHAPTER  XV 

WITH   MADAM   THE   BARONESS 

It  is  not  for  good  women  that  men  have  fought  battles* 
given  their  lives  and  staked  their  souls. — Mrs.  W.  K.  Clifford. 

UT,  Madam—"  I  began. 

She  answered  me  in  her  own  way.  "Mon- 
sieur  hesitates — he  is  lost!"  she  said.  "But 
see,  I  am  weary.  I  have  been  much  engaged  to-day. 
I  have  made  it  my  plan  never  to  fatigue  myself.  It 
is  my  hour  now  for  my  bath,  my  exercise,  my  bed,  if 
you  please.  I  fear  I  must  bid  you  good  night,  one 
way  or  the  other.  You  will  be  welcome  here  none 
the  less,  if  you  care  to  remain.  I  trust  you  did  not 
find  our  little  repast  to-night  unpleasing?  Believe 
me,  our  breakfast  shall  be  as  good.  Threlka  is  ex 
pert  in  omelets,  and  our  coffee  is  such  as  perhaps  you 
may  not  find  general  in  these  provinces." 

Was  there  the  slightest  mocking  sneer  in  her 
words?  Did  she  despise  me  as  a  faint-heart?  I 
could  not  tell,  but  did  not  like  the  thought. 

"Believe  me,  Madam,"  I  answered  hotly,  "you 
have  courage,  at  least.  Let  me  match  it.  Nor  do  I 

154 


WITH    MADAM   THE    BARONESS      155 

deny  that  this  asks  courage  on  my  part  too.     If  you 
please,  in  these  circumstances,  /  shall  remain." 

"You  are  armed?"  she  asked  simply. 

I  inserted  a  finger  in  each  waistcoat  pocket  and 
showed  her  the  butts  of  two  derringers ;  and  at  the 
back  of  my  neck — to  her  smiling  amusement  at  our 
heathen  fashion — I  displayed  just  the  tip  of  the  haft 
of  a  short  bowie-knife,  which  went  into  a  leather 
case  under  the  collar  of  my  coat.  And  again  I  drew 
around  the  belt  which  I  wore  so  that  she  could  see 
the  barrel  of  a  good  pistol,  which  had  been  sus 
pended  under  cover  of  the  bell  skirt  of  my  coat. 

She  laughed.  I  saw  that  she  was  not  unused  to 
weapons.  I  should  have  guessed  her  the  daughter 
of  a  soldier  or  acquainted  with  arms  in  some  way. 
"Of  course,"  she  said,  "there  might  be  need  of  these, 
although  I  think  not.  And  in  any  case,  if  trouble 
can  be  deferred  until  to-morrow,  why  concern  one 
self  over  it?  You  interest  me.  I  begin  yet  more  to 
approve  of  you." 

"Then,  as  to  that  breakfast  a  la  jourchette  with 
Madam ;  if  I  remain,  will  you  agree  to  tell  me  what 
as  your  business  here?" 

She  laughed  at  me  gaily.     "I  might/"  she  said, 
"provided  that  meantime  I  had  learned  whether  or; 
not  you  were  married  that  night." 

I  do  not  profess  that  I  read  all  that  was  in  her 
face  as  she  stepped  back  toward  the  satin  curtains 


156     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

and  swept  me  the  most  graceful  curtsey  I  had  ev^* 
seen  in  all  my  life.  I  felt  like  reaching  out  a  hand 
to  restrain  her.  I  felt  like  following  her.  She  was 
assuredly  bewildering,  assuredly  as  puzzling  as  she 
was  fascinating.  I  only  felt  that  she  was  mocking 
me.  Ah,  she  was  a  woman  ! 

I  felt  something  swiftly  flame  within  me.  There 
arose  about  me  that  net  of  amber-hued  perfume, 
soft,  enthralling,  difficult  of  evasion.  .  .  .  Then  I 
recalled  my  mission;  and  I  remembered  what  Mr. 
Calhoun  and  Doctor  Ward  had  said.  I  was  not  a 
man ;  I  was  a  government  agent.  She  was  not  a 
woman ;  she  was  my  opponent.  Yes,  but  then — 

Slowly  I  turned  to  the  opposite  side  of  this  long 
central  room.  There  were  curtains  here  also.  I 
drew  them,  but  as  I  did  so  I  glanced  back.  Again,  as 
on  that  earlier  night,  I  saw  her  face  framed  in  the 
amber  folds — a  face  laughing,  mocking.  With  an 
exclamation  of  discontent,  I  threw  down  my  heavy 
pistol  on  the  floor,  cast  my  coat  across  the  foot  of 
the  bed  to  prevent  the  delicate  covering  from  being 
soiled  by  my  boots,  and  so  rested  without  further 
disrobing. 

In  the  opposite  apartment  I  could  hear  her  mov 
ing  about,  humming  to  herself  some  air  as  uncon 
cernedly  as  though  no  such  being  as  myself  existed 
in  the  world.  I  heard  her  presently  accost  her  serv 
ant,  who  entered  through  some  passage  not  visible 


WITH    MADAM   THE    BARONESS      157 

from  the  central  apartments.  Then  without  conceal 
ment  there  seemed  to  go  forward  the  ordinary  rou 
tine  of  madam's  toilet  for  the  evening. 

"No,  I  think  the  pink  one,"  I  heard  her  say,  "and 
please — the  bath,  Threlka,  just  a  trifle  more  warm." 
She  spoke  in  French,  her  ancient  serving- woman,  as 
I  took  it,  not  understanding  the  English  language. 
They  both  spoke  also  in  a  tongue  I  did  not  know.  I 
heard  the  rattling  of  toilet  articles,  certain  sighs  of 
content,  faint  splashings  beyond.  I  could  not  escape 
from  all  this.  Then  I  imagined  that  perhaps  madam 
was  having  her  heavy  locks  combed  by  the  serving- 
woman.  In  spite  of  myself,  I  pictured  her  thus,  even 
more  beautiful  than  before. 

For  a  long  time  I  concluded  that  my  presence  was 
to  be  dismissed  as  a  thing  which  was  of  no  impor 
tance,  or  which  was  to  be  regarded  as  not  having 
happened.  At  length,  however,  after  what  seemed 
at  least  half  an  hour  of  these  mysterious  ceremonies, 
I  heard  certain  sighings,  long  breaths,  as  though 
madam  were  taking  calisthenic  movements,  some 
gymnastic  training — I  knew  not  what.  She  paused 
for  breath,  apparently  very  well  content  with  her 
self. 

Shame  on  me!  1  fancied  perhaps  she  stood  be 
fore  a  mirror.  Shame  on  me  again !  I  fancied  she 
sat,  glowing,  beautiful,  at  the  edge  of  the  ambef 
couch. 


158    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

At  last  she  called  out  to  me :    "Monsieur !" 

I  w,as  at  my  own  curtains  at  once,  but  hers  re 
mained  tight  folded,  although  I  heard  her  voice 
close  behind  them.  "Eh  bien?"  I  answered. 

"It  is  nothing,  except  I  would  say  that  if  Monsieur 
feels  especially  grave  and  reverent,  he  will  find  a 
very  comfortable  prie-dieu  at  the  foot  of  the  bed." 

"I  thank  you,"  I  replied,  gravely  as  I  could. 

"And  there  is  a  very  excellent  rosary  and  crucifix 
on  the  table  just  beyond !" 

"I  thank  you,"  I  replied,  steadily  as  I  could. 

"And  there  is  an  English  Book  of  Common 
Prayer  upon  the  stand  not  far  from  the  head  of  the 
bed,  upon  this  side !" 

"A  thousand  thanks,  my  very  good  friend." 

I  neard  a  smothered  laugh  beyond  the  amber  cuv- 
tains.  Presently  she  spoke  again,  yawning,  a*  } 
fancied,  rather  contentedly. 

"A  la  bonne  heure,  Monsieur!" 

"A  la  bonne  heure,  Madame!" 


CHAPTER  XVI 
D^JEI)NER  \  LA  FOURCHETTE 

Woman  is  a  creature  between  man  and  the  angels. 

—H  on  ore  de  Balzac. 

AOVERNMENT  agent,  it  seems,  may  also  in 
part  be  little  more  than  a  man,  after  all. 
In  these  singular  surroundings  I  found 
myself  not  wholly  tranquil.  ...  At  last  toward 
morning,  I  must  have  slept.  It  was  some  time  after 
daybreak  when  I  felt  a  hand  upon  my  shoulder  as  I 
lay  still  partly  clad.  Awakened  suddenly,  I  arose 
and  almost  overthrew  old  Threlka,  who  stood  re 
garding  me  with  no  expression  whatever  upon  her 
brown  and  wrinkled  countenance.  She  did  no  more 
than  point  the  way  to  a  door,  where  presently  I 
found  a  bath-room,  and  so  refreshed  myself  and 
made  the  best  toilet  possible  under  the  circumstances. 
My  hostess  I  found  awaiting  me  in  the  central 
room  of  the  apartments.  She  was  clad  now  in  a 
girdled  peignoir  of  rich  rose-color,  the  sleeves,  widej 
and  full,  falling  back  from  her  round  arms.  Her 
dark  hair  was  coiled  and  piled  high  on  her  head 
this  morning,  regardless  of  current  mode,  and  con- 

159 


i6o     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

fined  in  a  heavy  twist  by  a  tall  golden  comb ;  so  tha\ 
aer  white  neck  was  left  uncovered.  She  wore  no 
jewelry,  and  ,as  she  stood,  simple  and  free  from  any 
trickery  of  the  coquette,  I  thought  that  few  women 
£ver  were  more  fair.  That  infinite  witchery  not  given 
to  many  women  was  hers,  yet  dignity  as  well.  She 
was,  I  swear,  grande  dame,  though  young  and  beau 
tiful  as  a  goddess.  Her  brow  was  thoughtful  now, 
her  air  more  demure.  Faint  blue  shadows  lay  be 
neath  her  eyes.  A  certain  hauteur,  it  seemed  to  me, 
was  visible  in  her  mien,  yet  she  was  the  soul  of 
graciousness,  and,  I  must  admit,  as  charming  a  host 
ess  as  ever  invited  one  to  usual  or  unusual  repast 

The  little  table  in  the  center  of  the  room  was  al 
ready  spread.  Madam  rilled  my  cup  from  the 
steaming  urn  with  not  the  slightest  awkwardness,  aa 
she  nodded  for  me  to  be  seated.  We  looked  at  each 
other,  and,  as  I  may  swear,  we  both  broke  into  sav 
ing  laughter. 

So  we  sat,  easier  now,  as  I  admit,  and,  with  small 
concern  for  the  affairs  of  the  world  outside  at  the 
time,  discussed  the  very  excellent  omelet,  which 
certainly  did  not  allow  the  reputation  of  Threlka  to 
suffer ;  the  delicately  grilled  bones,  the  crisp  toasted 
rye  bread,  the  firm  yellow  butter,  the  pungent  early 
cress,  which  made  up  a  meal  sufficiently  dainty  even 
Ifor  her  who  presided  over  it 


DfjEUNER  A  LA  FOURCMETTE  161 

Even  that  pitiless  light  of  early  morning,  the  mer 
ciless  cross-light  of  opposing  windows,  was  gentle 
with  her.  Yes,  she  was  young!  Moreover,  she  ate 
as  a  person  of  breeding,  and  seemed  thoroughbred  in 
all  ways,  if  one  might  use  a  term  so  hackneyed.  Rank 
and  breeding  had  been  hers ;  she  needed  not  to  claim 
them,  for  they  told  their  own  story.  I  wondered' 
what  extraordinary  history  of  hers  remained  untold 
— what  history  of  hers  and  mine  and  of  others  she 
might  yet  assist  in  making ! 

"I  was  saying,"  she  remarked  presently,  "that  I 
would  not  have  you  think  that  I  do  not  appreciate 
the  suffering  in  which  you  were  plunged  by  the  haste 
vou  found  necessary  in  the  wedding  of  your  jeune 
filled 

But  I  was  on  my  guard.  "At  least,  I  may  thank 
you  for  your  sympathy,  Madam !"  I  replied. 

"Yet  in  time,"  she  went  on,  gone  reflective  the 
next  instant,  "you  will  see  how  very  unimportant  is 
all  this  turmoil  of  love  and  marriage." 

"Indeed,  there  is,  as  you  say,  something  of  a  tur 
moil  regarding  them  in  our  institutions  as  they  are( 
at  present  formed." 

"Because  the  average  of  humanity  thinks  so  little 
Most  of  us  judge  life  from  its  emotions.  We  do  not 
search  the  depths." 

"If  I  could  oblige   VLadam  by  abolishing  soci^qfj 


162     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

and  home  and  humanity,  I  should  be  very  glad — « 
because,  of  course,  that  is  what  Madam  means !" 

''At  any  cost,"  she  mused,  "that  torture  of  life 
must  be  passed  on  to  coming  generations  for  their 
unhappiness,  their  grief,  their  misery.  I  presume  it 
was  necessary  that  there  should  be  this  plan  of  the 
general  blindness  and  intensity  of  passion." 

"Yes,  if,  indeed,  it  be  not  the  most  important 
thing  in  the  world  for  us  to  marry,  at  least  it  is  im 
portant  that  we  should  think  so.  Madam  is  philos^ 
opher  this  morning,"  I  said,  smiling. 

She  hardly  heard  me.  "To  continue  the  crucifix 
ion  of  the  soul,  to  continue  the  misapprehensions,  the 
debasings  of  contact  with  human  life — yes,  I  sup 
pose  one  must  pay  all  that  for  the  sake  of  the  gain 
ing  of  a  purpose.  Yet  there  are  those  who  would 
endure  much  for  the  sake  of  principle,  Monsieur. 
Some  such  souls  are  born,  do  you  not  think?" 

"Yes,  Sphinx  souls,  extraordinary,  impossible  for 
the  average  of  us  to  understand." 

"That  torch  of  life!"  she  mused.  "See!  It  was 
only  that  which  you  were  so  eager  to  pass  on  to  an 
other  generation !  That  was  why  you  were  so  mad 
to  hasten  to  the  side  of  that  woman.  Whereas,"  she 
mused  still,  "it  were  so  much  grander  and  so  much 
nobler  to  pass  on  the  torch  of  a  principle  as  well !" 

"I  do  not  understand." 

"The  general  business  of  offspring  goes  on  tin-, 


DEJEUNER  X  LA  FOURCHETTE  163 

ceasingly  in  all  the  nations,"  she  resumed  frankly. 
"There  will  be  children,  whether  or  not  you  and  I 
ever  find  some  one  wherewith  to  mate  in  the  com-, 
promise  which  folk  call  wedlock.  But  principles — ' 
ah !  my  friend,  who  is  to  give  those  to  others  who 
follow  us  ?  What  rare  and  splendid  wedlock  brings 
forth  that  manner  of  offspring  ?" 

"Madam,  in  the  circumstances,"  said  I,  "I  should 
be  happy  to  serve  you  more  omelet." 

She  shook  her  head  as  though  endeavoring  to  dis-' 
miss  something  from  her  mind. 

"Do  not  philosophize  with  me,"  I  said.  "I  am 
already  distracted  by  the  puzzle  you  offer  to  me.  i 
You  are  so  young  and  beautiful,  so  fair  in  your 
judgment,  so  kind — " 

"In  turn,  I  ask  you  not  to  follow  that,"  she  re 
marked  coldly.  "Let  us  talk  of  what  you  call,  I 
think,  business." 

"Nothing  could  please  me  more.     I   have  slept 
little,  pondering  on  this  that  I  do  call  business.    To 
begin  with,  then,  you  were  there  at  the  Chateau 
Ramezay  last  night.     I  would  have  given  all  I  had' 
to  have  been  there  for  an  hour." 

"There  are  certain  advantages  a  woman  may 
have." 

"But  you  were  there?  You  know  what  went  for 
ward?" 

"Certainly." 


il64     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"Did  they  know  you  were  present?" 

"Monsieur  is  somewhat  importunate!" 

She  looked  me  now  directly  in  the  eye,  studying 
me  mercilessly,  with  a  scrutiny  whose  like  I  should 
not  care  often  to  undergo. 

"I  should  be  glad  if  it  were  possible  to  answer 
you,"  she  said  at  last  enigmatically;  "but  I  have 
faith  to  keep  with — others — with  you- — with — my 
self." 

Now  my  own  eagerness  ran  away  with  me;  I  be 
came  almost  rude.  "Madam,"  I  exclaimed,  "why 
beat  about  the  bush?  I  do  not  care  to  deceive  you, 
and  you  must  not  deceive  me.  Why  should  we  not 
be  friends  in  every  way,  and  fair  ones?" 

"You  do  not  know  what  you  are  saying,"  she  said 
simply. 

"Are  you  then  an  enemy  of  my  country?"  I  de 
manded.  "If  I  thought  you  were  here  to  prove 
traitress  to  my  country,  you  should  never  leave  this 
room  except  with  me.  You  shall  not  leave  it  now 
until  you  have  told  me  what  you  are,  why  you  are 
here,  what  you  plan  to  do !" 

She  showed  no  fear.  She  only  made  a  pretty  little 
gesture  at  the  dishes  between  us.  "At  my  own 
table!"  she  pouted. 

Again  our  eyes  met  directly  and  again  hers  did 
not  lower.  She  looked  at  me  calmly.  I  was  no 
Miatch  for  her. 


DEJEUNER  A  LA  FOURCHETTE  165 

"My  dear  lady,"  I  began  again,  "my  relation  to 
the  affairs  of  the  American  Republic  is  a  very  hum 
ble  one.  I  am  no  minister  of  state,  and  I  know  you 
deal  with  ministers  direct.  How,  then,  shall  I  gain 
your  friendship  for  my  country?  You  are  danger 
ous  to  have  for  an  enemy.  Are  you  too  high-priced 
to  have  for  a  friend — for  a  friend  to  our  Union — a 
friend  of  the  principle  of  democracy?  Come  now,! 
you  enjoy  large  questions.  Tell  me,  what  does  this 
council  mean  regarding  Oregon?  Is  it  true  that 
England  plans  now  to  concentrate  all  her  traders,  all 
her  troops,  and  force  them  west  up  the  Saskatchewan 
and  into  Oregon  this  coming  season?  Come,  now, 
Madam,  is  it  to  be  war?" 

Her  curved  lips  broke  into  a  smile  that  showed 
again  her  small  white  teeth. 

"Were  you,  then,  married?"  she  said. 

I  only  went  on,  impatient.  "Any  moment  may 
mean  everything  to  us.  I  should  not  ask  these  ques 
tions  if  I  did  not  know  that  you  were  close  to  Mr. 
Calhoun." 

She  looked  me  square  in  the  eye  and  nodded  her 
head  slowly.  "I  may  say  this  much,  Monsieur,  that^ 
it  has  pleased  me  to  gain  a,  little  further  informa 
tion." 

"You  will  give  my  government  that  inform 
ation?'" 

"Why  should  I?" 


166    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"Yet  you  spoke  of  others  who  might  come  here. 
What  others?  Who  are  they?  The  representatives 
of  Mexico?  Some  attache  of  the  British  Embassy 
at  Washington  ?  Some  minister  from  England  itself, 
sent  here  direct  ?" 

She  smiled  at  me  again.  "I  told  you  not  to  ga 
back  to  your  hotel,  did  I  not?" 

I  got  no  further  with  her,  it  seemed. 

"You  interest  me  sometimes,"  she  went  on  slowly, 
at  last,  "yet  you  seem  to  have  so  little  brain !  Now, 
in  your  employment,  I  should  think  that  brain  \vould 
be  somewhat  useful  at  times/' 

"I  do  not  deny  that  suggestion,  Madam." 

"But  you  are  unable  to  analyze.  Thus,  in  the  mat 
ter  of  yourself.  I  suppose  if  you  were  told  of  it,  you 
would  only  say  that  you  forgot  to  look  in  the  toe  of 
the  slipper  you  had." 

"Thus  far,  Baroness,"  I  said  soberly,  "I  have 
asked  no  special  privilege,  at  least.  Now,  if  it  af 
fords  you  any  pleasure,  I  beg  you,  I  implore  you,  to 
tell  me  what  you  mean !" 

"Did  you  credit  the  attache  of  Mexico  with  being 
nothing  more  than  a  drunken  rowdy,  to  follow  me 
across  town  with  a  little  shoe  in  his  carriage  ?" 

"Sat  you  said  he  was  in  wine." 

"True.  But  would  that  be  a  reason  ?  Continually 
you  show  your  lack  of  brain  in  accepting  as  conclu 
sive  results  which  could  not  possibly  have  occurred 


DfjEUNER  \   LA    FOURCHETTE     167 

Granted  he  was  in  wine,  granted  he  followed  me, 
granted  he  had  my  shoe  in  his  possession — what 
then  ?  Does  it  follow  that  at  the  ball  at  the  White 
House  he  could  have  removed  that  shoe?  Does 
Monsieur  think  that  I,  too,  was  in  wine?" 

"I  .agree  that  I  have  no  brain!  I  can  not  guess 
what  you  mean.  I  can  only  beg  once  more  that  you 
explain." 

"Now  listen.  In  your  most  youthful  and  charm 
ing  innocence  I  presume  you  do  not  know  much  of 
the  capabilities  for  concealment  offered  by  a  lady's 
apparel !  Now,  suppose  I  had  a  message — where  do 
you  think  I  could  hide  it;  granted,  of  course,  the 
conditions  obtaining  at  a  ball  in  the  White  House?" 

"Then  you  did  have  a  message?  It  came  to  you 
there,  at  that  time?" 

She  nodded.  "Certainly.  Mr.  Van  Zandt  had  al 
most  no  other  opportunity  to  meet  me  or  get  word 
to  me." 

"Van  Zandt!  Madam,  are  you  indeed  in  the  camp 
of  all  these  different  interests  ?  So,  what  Pakenham 
said  was  true !  Van  Zandt  is  the  attache  of  Texas. 
Van  Zandt  is  pleading  with  Mr.  Calhoun  that  he 
shall  take  up  the  secretaryship.  Van  Zandt  promises 
us  the  friendship  of  Texas  if  we  will  stand  out  for 
the  annexation  of  Texas.  Van  Zandt  promises  us 
every  effort  in  his  power  against  England.  Van 
Zandt  promises  us  the  sternest  of  fronts  against 


i68     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

treacherous  Mexico.  Van  Zandt  is  known  to  be  in* 
terested  in  this  fair  Dofia  Lucrezia,  just  as  Polk  is. 
Now,  then,  comes  Van  Zandt  with  his  secret  message 
slipped  into  the  hand  of  Madam  at  the  Ambassador's 
ball — Madam,  the  friend  of  England  7  The  attach^ 
of  Mexico  is  curious — furious — to  know  what  Texas 
is  saying  to  England  !  And  that  message  must  be 
concealed  !  And  Madam  conceals  it  in — " 

She  smiled  at  me  brilliantly.  "You  come  on,"  she 
said.  "Should  your  head  be  opened  and  analyzed, 
yes,  I  think  a  trace  of  brain  might  be  discovered  by 
good  chemistry/' 

I  resumed  impatiently.  "You  put  his  message  in 
your  slipper  ?" 

She  nodded.  "Yes,"  she  said,  "in  the  toe  of  it. 
There  was  barely  chance  to  do  that  You  see,  our 
skirts  are  full  and  wide;  there  are  curtains  in  the 
East  Room;  there  was  wine  by  this  time;  there  was 
music;  so  I  effected  that  much.  But  when  you  took 
the  slipper,  you  took  Van  Zandt's  note !  You  had  it. 
It  WAS  true,  what  I  told  Pakenham  before  the  pres 
ident1— I  did  not  then  have  that  note!  You  had  it 
At  le?st,  I  thought  you  had  it,  till  I  found  it  crum 
pled  on  the  table  the  next  day !  It  must  have  fallen 
there  f«*om  the  shoe  when  we  made  our  little  ex 
change  that  night  Ah,  you  hurried  me.  I  scarce 
knew  whether  I  was  clad  or  shod,  until  the  next 
afternoon— after  I  left  you  at  the  White  House 


DfjEUNER  \  LA  FOURCHETTE  169 

grounds.  So  you  hastily  departed — to  your  wed 
ding?" 

"So  small  a  shoe  could  not  have  held  an  extended 
epistle,  Madam,"  I  said,  ignoring  her  question. 

"No,  but  the  little  roll  of  paper  caused  me  an 
guish.  After  I  had  danced  I  was  on  the  point  of 
fainting.  I  hastened  to  the  cover  of  the  nearest  cur 
tain,  where  I  might  not  be  noticed.  Seiior  Yturrio 
of  Mexico  was  somewhat  vigilant.  He  wished  to 
know  what  Texas  planned  with  England.  He  has 
long  made  love  to  me — by  threats,  and  jewels.  As  I 
stood  behind  the  curtain  I  saw  his  face,  I  fled ;  but 
one  shoe — the  empty  one — was  not  well  fastened, 
and  it  fell.  I  could  not  walk.  I  reached  down,  re 
moved  the  other  shoe  with  its  note,  hid  it  in  my 
handkerchief — thank  Providence  for  the  fashion  of 
so  much  lace — and  so,  not  in  wine,  Monsieur,  as 
you  may  believe,  and  somewhat  anxious,  as  you  may 
also  believe,  expecting  to  hear  at  once  of  an  encoun 
ter  between  Van  Zandt  and  the  Mexican  minister, 
Senor  Almonte,  or  his  attache  Yturrio,  or  between 
one  of  them  and  some  one  else,  I  made  my  adieux — I 
vill  warrant  the  only  woman  in  her  stocking  feet 
vho  bowed  for  Mr.  Tyler  at  the  ball  that  night!" 

"Yes,  so  far  as  I  know,  Madam,  you  are  the  only 
!ady  who  ever  left  the  East  Room  precisely  so  clad. 
And  so  you  got  into  your  own  carriage — alone — 
after  a  while?  And  so,  when  you  were  there  you  put 


1 70    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

on  the  shoe  which  was  left?  And  so  Yturrio  of 
Mexico  got  the  other  one — and  found  nothing  in  it! 
And  so,  he  wanted  this  one !" 

"You  come  on,"  she  said.  "You  have  something 
more  than  a  trace  of  brain." 

"And  that  other  shoe,  which  /  got  that  night?" 

Without  a  word  she  smoothed  out  a  bit  of  paper 
which  she  removed  from  a  near-by  desk,  and  handed 
it  to  me.  "This  was  in  yours !  As  I  said,  in  my  con 
fusion  I  supposed  you  had  it.  You  said  I  should  go 
in  a  sack.  I  suppose  I  did !  I  suppose  I  lost  my 
head,  somewhere!  But  certainly  I  thought  you  had 
found  the  note  and  given  it  to  Mr.  Calhoun ;  else  I 
should  have  driven  harder  terms  with  him !  I  would 
drive  harder  terms  with  you,  now,  were  I  not  in  such 
haste  to  learn  the  answer  to  my  question !  Tell  me, 
were  you  married?" 

"Is  that  answer  worth  more  than  Van  Zandt?"  I 
smiled. 

"Yes,'J  she  answered,  also  smiling. 

I  spread  the  page  upon  the  cloth  before  me;  my 
eyes  raced  down  the  lines.  I  did  not  make  further 
reply  to  her. 

"Madam,"  went  on  the  communication,  "say  to 
your  august  friend  Sir  Richard  that  we  have 
reached  the  end  of  our  endurance  of  these  late  de 
lays.  The  promises  of  the  United  States  mean  noth 
ing.  We  can  trust  neither  Whig  nor  Democrat  any 


DfjEUNER   X  LA   FOURCHETTE 

longer.  There  is  no  one  party  in  power,  nor  will 
there  be.  There  are  two  sections  in  America  and 
there  is  no  nation,  and  Texas  knows  not  where  to  go. 
We  have  offered  to  Mr.  Tyler  to  join  the  Union  if 
the  Union  will  allow  us  to  join.  We  intend  to  re 
serve  our  own  lands  and  reserve  the  right  to  organ* 
ize  later  into  four  or  more  states,  if  our  people  shali 
so  desire.  But  as  a  great  state  we  will  join  the 
Union  if  the  Union  will  accept  us.  That  must  be 
seen. 

"England  now  beseeches  us  not  to  enter  the  Union, 
but  to  stand  apart,  either  for  independence  or  for  al 
liance  with  Mexico  and  England.  The  proposition 
has  been  made  to  us  to  divide  into  two  governments, 
one  free  and  one  slave,  England  has  proposed  to 
us  to  advance  us  moneys  to  pay  all  our  debts  if  we 
will  agree  to  this.  Settled  by  bold  men  from  our 
mother  country,  the  republic,  Texas  has  been  averse 
to  this.  But  now  our  own  mother  repudiates  us,  not 
once  but  many  times.  We  get  no  decision.  This 
then,  dear  Madam,  is  from  Texas  to  England  by 
your  hand,  and  we  know  you  will  carry  it  safe  and 
secret  We  shall  accept  this  proposal  of  England, 
and  avail  ourselves  of  the  richness  of  her  generosity. 

"If  within  thirty  days  action  is  not  taken  in  Wash- 
ington  for  the  annexation  of  Texas,  Texas  will  never 
in  the  history  of  the  world  be  one  of  the  United 
States.  Moreover,  if  the  United  States  shall  lose 


FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 


Texas,  also  they  lose  Oregon,  and  all  of  Oregon, 
Carry  this  news  —  I  am  persuaded  that  it  will  be 
welcome  —  to  that  gentleman  whose  ear  I  know  you 
have  ;  and  believe  me  always,  my  dear  Madam,  with 
respect  and  admiration,  yours,  for  the  State  of 
Texas,  Van  Zandt." 

I  drew  a  deep  breath  as  I  saw  this  proof  of  double 
play  on  the  part  of  this  representative  of  the  republic 
of  the  Southwest.  "They  are  traitors  !"  I  exclaimed. 
"But  there  must  be  action  —  something  must  be  done 
at  once.  I  must  not  wait  ;  I  must  go  !  I  must  take 
this,  at  least,  to  Mr.  Calhoun." 

She  laughed  now,  joyously  clapping  her  white 
hands  together.  "Good!"  she  said.  "You  are  a 
man,  after  all.  You  may  yet  grow  brain." 

"Have  I  been  fair  with  you  thus  far?"  she  asked 
at  length. 

"More  than  fair.  I  could  not  have  asked  this  of 
you.  In  an  hour  I  have  learned  the  news  of  years. 
But  will  you  not  also  tell  me  what  is  the  news  from 
Chateau  Ramezay?  Then,  indeed,  I  could  go  home 
feeling  I  had  done  very  much  for  my  chief." 

"Monsieur,  I  can  not  do  so.  You  will  not  tell  m« 
that  other  news." 

"Of  what?" 

"Of  your  nuptials!" 

"Madam,  I  can  not  do  so.  But  for  you,  much  as  I 
owe  you,  I  would  like  to  wring  your  neck.  I  would 


DfijEUNER   A   LA   FOURCHETTE     I7> 

like  to  take  your  arms  in  my  hands  and  crush  them, 
until—" 

"Until  what?"  Her  face  was  strange.  I  saw  a 
hand  raised  to  her  throat. 

"Until  you  told  me  about  Oregon !"  said  I. 

I  saw  her  arms  move — just  one  instant — her  body 
incline.  She  gazed  at  me  steadily,  somberly.  Then 
her  hands  fell. 

"Ah,  God !  how  I  hate  you  both !'  she  said ;  "you 
and  her.  You  were  married,  after  all !  Yes,  it  can 
be,  it  can  be!  A  woman  may  love  one  man — even 
though  he  could  give  her  only  a  bed  of  husks !  And 
a  man  may  love  a  woman,  too — one  woman !  I  had 
not  known." 

I  could  only  gaze  at  her,  now  more  in  perplexity 
thaw.  ever.  Alike  her  character  and  her  moods  were 
beyond  me.  What  she  was  or  had  been  I  could  not 
guess ;  only,  whatever  she  was,  she  was  not  ordinary, 
that  was  sure,  and  was  to  be  classified  undei-  no  ordi 
nary  rule.  Woman  or  secret  agent  she  was,  and  in 
one  or  other  identity  she  could  be  my  friend  or  my 
powerful  enemy,  could  aid  my  country  powerfully  if 
she  had  the  whim;  or  damage  it  irreparably  if  she 
had  the  desire.  But — yes — as  I  studied  her  that 
keen,  tense,  vital  moment,  she  was  woman ! 

A  deep  fire  burned  in  her  eyes,  that  was  true;  but 
on  her  face  was — what?  It  was  not  rage,  it  was  not 
passion,  it  was  not  chagrin.  No,  in  truth  and  justice 


174    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

I  swear  that  what  I  then  saw  on  her  face  was  that 
same  look  I  had  noted  once  before,  an  expression  of 
almost  childish  pathos,  of  longing,  of  appeal  for 
something  missed  or  gone,  though  much  desired.  No 
vanity  could  contemplate  with  pleasure  a  look  like 
that  on  the  face  of  a  woman  such  as  Helena  von  Ritz. 

I  fancied  her  unstrung  by  excitement,  by  the  strain 
of  her  trying  labor,  by  the  loneliness  of  her  life,  un 
certain,  misunderstood,  perhaps,  as  it  was.  I  won 
dered  if  she  could  be  more  unhappy  than  I  myself, 
if  life  could  offer  her  less  than  it  did  to  me.  But  I 
dared  not  prolong  our  masking,  lest  all  should  be 
unmasked. 

"It  is  nothing!"  she  said  at  last,  and  laughed 
gaily  as  ever. 

"Yes,  Madam,  it  is  nothing.  I  admit  my  defeat. 
I  shall  ask  no  more  favors,  expect  no  further  infor 
mation  from  you,  for  I  have  not  earned  it,  and  I  can 
not  pay.  I  will  make  no  promise  that  I  could  not 
keep." 

"Then  we  part  even !" 

"As  enemies  or  friends?" 

"I  do  not  yet  know.  I  can  not  think — for  a  long 
time.  But  I,  too,  am  defeated." 

"I  do  not  understand  how  Madam  can  be  defeated 
in  anything." 

"Ah,  I  am  defeated  only  because  I  have  won.  I 
have  your  secret ;  you  do  not  have  mine.  But  I  laid 


DfjEUNER   X    LA    FOURCHETTE     175 

also  another  wager,  with  myself.  I  have  lost  it 
Ceremony  or  not — and  what  does  the  ceremony 
value? — you  are  married.  I  had  not  known  mar 
riage  to  be  possible.  I  had  not  known  you — you 
savages.  No — so  much — I  had  not  known." 

"Monsieur,  adieu !"  she  added  swiftly. 

I  bent  and  kissed  her  hand.    "Madam,  au 

"No,  adieu!  Go!" 


CHAPTER  XVII 

A  HUNTER  OF  BUTTERFLIES 

X  love  men,  not  because  they  are  men,  but  because  they  are 
.*rt  women. — Queen  Christina. 

THERE  was  at  that  time  in  Montreal  a  sort  of 
news  room  and  public  exchange,  which  made 
a  place  of  general  meeting.  It  was  supplied 
with  newspapers  and  the  like,  and  kept  up  by  sub 
scriptions  of  the  town  merchants — a  spacious  room 
made  out  of  the  old  Methodist  chapel  on  St.  Joseph 
Street.  I  knew  this  for  a  place  of  town  gossip,  and 
hoped  I  might  hit  upon  something  to  aid  me  in  my 
errand,  which  was  no  more  than  begun,  it  seemed. 
Entering  the  place  shortly  before  noon,  I  made  pre 
tense  of  reading,  all  the  while  with  an  eye  and  an  ear 
out  for  anything  that  might  happen. 

As  I  stared  in  pretense  at  the  page  before  me,  I 
fumbled  idly  in  a  pocket,  with  unthinking  hand,  and 
brought  out  to  place  before  me  on  the  table,  an  ob 
ject  of  which  at  first  I  was  unconscious — the  little 
Indian  blanket  clasp.  As  it  lay  before  me  I  felt 
seized  of  a  sudden  hatred  for  it,  and  let  fall  on  it  a 
heavy  hand.  As  I  did  so,  I  heard  a  voice  at  my  ear. 

176 


A    HUNTER    OF    BUTTERFLIES       177 

"Mein  Gott,  man,  do  not!  You  break  it,  surely." 

I  started  at  this.  I  had  not  heard  any  one  ap 
proach.  I  discovered  now  that  the  speaker  had 
taken  a  seat  near  me  at  the  table,  and  could  not  fail 
to  see  this  object  which  lay  before  me. 

"I  beg  pardon,"  he  said,  in  a  broken  speech  which 
showed  his  foreign  birth ;  "but  it  iss  so  beautiful ;  to 
break  it  iss  wrong." 

Something  in  his  appearance  and  speech  fixed  my 
attention.  He  was  a  tall,  bent  man,  perhaps  sixty 
years  of  age,  of  gray  hair  and  beard,  with  the 
glasses  and  the  unmistakable  air  of  the  student.  His 
stooped  shoulders,  his  weakened  eye,  his  thin,  blue- 
veined  hand,  the  iron-gray  hair  standing  like  a  ruff 
above  his  forehead,  marked  him  not  as  one  ac 
quainted  with  a  wild  life,  but  better  fitted  for  other 
days  and  scenes. 

I  pushed  the  trinket  along  the  table  towards  him. 

"  'Tis  of  little  value,"  I  said,  "and  is  always  in 
the  way  when  I  would  find  anything  in  my  pocket." 

"But  once  some  one  hass  made  it;  once  it  hass  had 
value.  Tell  me  where  you  get  it?" 

"North  of  the  Platte,  in  our  western  territories,"  I 
tiaid.  "I  once  traded  in  that  country." 

"You  are  American?" 

"Yes." 

"So,"  he  said  thoughtfully.  "So.  A  great  coun 
try,  a  very  great  country.  Me,  I  also  live  in  it" 


1 78     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"Indeed?"  I  said.    "In  what  part?" 
"It  iss  five  years  since  I  cross  the  Rockies." 
"You  have  crossed  the  Rockies  ?  I  envy  you." 
"You  meesunderstand  me.    I  live  west  of  them  for 
five  years.    I  am  now  come  east." 

"All  the  more,  then,  I  envy  you !  You  have  per 
haps  seen  the  Oregon  country?  That  has  always 
been  my  dream." 

My  eye  must  have  kindled  at  that,  for  he  smiled 
at  me. 

"You  are  like  all  Americans.  They  leave  their  own 
homes  and  make  new  governments,  yess  ?  Those  men 
in  Oregon  haf  made  a  new  government  for  them- 
selfs,  and  they  tax  those  English  traders  to  pay  for 
a  government  which  iss  American !" 

I  studied  him  now  closely.  If  he  had  indeed  lived 
so  long  in  the  Oregon  settlements,  he  knew  far  more 
about  certain  things  than  I  did. 

"News  travels  slowly  over  so  great  a  distance," 
said  I.  "Of  course  I  know  nothing  of  these  matters 
except  that  last  year  and  the  year  before  the  mis 
sionaries  have  come  east  to  ask  us  for  more  settlers 
to  come  out  to  Oregon.  I  presume  they  want  their 
churches  filled." 

"But  most  their  farms!"  said  the  old  man. 
"You  have  been  at  Fort  Vancouver?" 
He  nodded.     "Also  to  Fort  Colville,  far  north; 
also  to  what  they  call  California,  far  south;  and 


~A    HUNTER    OF    BUTTERFLIES       179 

again  to  what  they  may  yet  call  Fort  Victoria.    I  hat' 
seen  many  posts  of  the  Hudson    Bay  Company." 

I  was  afraid  my  eyes  showed  my  interest ;  but  he 
went  on. 

"I  haf  been  in  the  Columbia  country,  and  in  the 
Willamette  country,  where  most  of  your  Americans 
are  settled.  I  know  somewhat  of  California.  Mr. 
Howard,  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  knows  also 
of  this  country  of  California.  He  said  to  those  Eng 
lish  gentlemans  at  our  meeting  last  night  that  Eng 
land  should  haf  someting  to  offset  California  on  the 
west  coast;  because,  though  Mexico  claims  Califor 
nia,  the  Yankees  really  rule  there,  and  will  rule 
there  yet  more.  He  iss  right;  but  they  laughed  at 
him." 

"Oh,  I  think  little  will  come  of  all  this  talk,"  I 
said  carelessly.  "It  is  very  far,  out  to  Oregon."  Yet 
all  the  time  my  heart  was  leaping.  So  he  had  been 
there,  at  that  very  meeting  of  which  I  could  learn 
nothing ! 

"You  know  not  what  you  say.  A  thousand  men 
came  into  Oregon  last  year.  It  iss  like  one  of  the 
great  migrations  of  the  peoples  of  Asia,  of  Europe, 
I  say  to  you,  it  iss  a  great  epoch.  There  iss  a  folk- 
movement  such  as  we  haf  not  seen  since  the  days  of 
the  Huns,  the  Goths,  the  Vandals,  since  the  Cimri 
movement.  It  iss  an  epoch,  my  friend!  It  iss  fate 
that  iss  in  it" 


i8o     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"So,  then,  it  is  a  great  country?"  I  asked. 

"It  iss  so  great,  these  traders  do  not  wish  it  known. 
They  wish  only  that  it  may  be  savage ;  also  that  their 
posts  and  their  harems  may  be  undisturbed.  That  iss 
what  they  wish.  These  Scots  go  wild  again,  in  the 
wilderness.  They  trade  and  they  travel,  but  it  iss  not 
homes  they  build.  Sir  George  Simpson  wants  steel 
traps  and  not  ploughs  west  of  the  Rockies.  That  iss 
all!" 

"They  do  not  speak  so  of  Doctor  McLaughlin,"  I 
began  tentatively. 

"My  friend,  a  great  man,  McLaughlin,  believe 
me !  But  he  iss  not  McKay ;  he  iss  not  Simpson ;  he 
iss  not  Behrens;  he  iss  not  Colville;  he  iss  not  Doug 
las.  And  I  say  to  you,  as  I  learned  last  night — you 
see,  they  asked  me  also  to  tell  what  I  knew  of  Ore-, 
gon — I  say  to  you  that  last  night  McLaughlin  was 
deposed.  He  iss  in  charge  no  more — so  soon  as  they 
can  get  word  to  him,  he  loses  his  place  at  Van 
couver." 

"After  a  lifetime  in  the  service !"  I  commented. 

"Yess,  after  a  lifetime;  and  McLaughlin  had  brain 
and  heart,  too.  If  England  would  listen  to  him,  she 
would  learn  sometings.  He  plants,  he  plows,  he\ 
hass  gardens  and  mills  and  houses  and  herds.  Yess, 
if  they  let  McLaughlin  alone,  they  would  haf  a  civ 
ilization  on  the  Columbia,  and  not  a  fur-trading 
post.  Then  they  could  oppose  your  civilization  there. 


A    HUNTER    OF    BUTTERFLIES       181 

'That  iss  what  he  preaches.  Simpson  preaches  other 
wise.  Simpson  loses  Oregon  to  England,  it  may  be." 

"You  know  much  about  affairs  out  in  Oregon,"  I 
ventured  again.  "Now,  I  did  not  happen  to  be  pres 
ent  at  the  little  meeting  last  night." 

'T  heard  it  all,"  he  remarked  carelessly,  "until  I 
jwent  to  sleep.  I  wass  bored.  I  care  not  to  hear  of 
the  splendor  of  England !" 

"Then  you  think  there  is  a  chance  of  trouble  be 
tween  our  country  and  England,  out  there?" 

He  smiled.  "It  iss  not  a  chance,  but  a  certainty," 
he  said.  "Those  settlers  will  not  gif  up.  And  Eng 
land  is  planning  to  push  them  out !" 

"We  had  not  heard  that!"  I  ventured. 

"It  wass  only  agreed  last  night.  England  will 
march  this  summer  seven  hundred  men  up  the  Peace 
River.  In  the  fall  they  will  be  across  the  Rockies, 
So !  They  can  take  boats  easily  down  the  streams  to 
Oregon.  You  ask  if  there  will  be  troubles.  I  tell 
you,  yess." 

"And  which  wins,  my  friend?"  I  feared  he  would 
hear  my  heart  thumping  at  this  news. 

"If  you  stop  where  you  are,  England  wins.  If 
you  keep  on  going  over  the  mountains  England  shall 
lose." 

"What  time  can  England  make  with  her  brigades, 
west-bound,  my  friend?"  I  asked  him  casually.  He 
answered  with  gratifying  scientific  precision. 


182     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"From  Edmonton  to  Fort  Colville,  west  of  the 
Rockies,  it  hass  been  done  in  six  weeks  and  five  days, 
by  Sir  George  himself.  From  Fort  Colville  down  it 
iss  easy  by  boats.  It  takes  the  voyageur  three 
months  to  cross,  or  four  months.  It  would  take 
';roops  twice  that  long,  or  more.  For  you  in  the 
States,  you  can  go  faster.  And,  ah!  my  friend,  it 
iss  worth  the  race,  that  Oregon.  Believe  me,  it  iss 
full  of  bugs — of  new  bugs ;  twelve  new  species  I  haf 
discovered  and  named.  It  iss  sometings  of  honor, 
iss  it  not?" 

"What  you  say  interests  me  very  much,  sir,"  I 
said.  "I  am  only  an  American  trader,  knocking 
around  to  see  the  world  a  little  bit.  You  seem  to 
have  been  engaged  in  some  scientific  pursuit  in  that 
country." 

"Yess,"  he  said.  "Mein  own  government  and 
mein  own  university,  they  send  me  to  this  country  to 
do  what  hass  not  been  done.  I  am  insectologer. 
Shall  I  show  you  my  bugs  of  Oregon?  You  shall 
see  them,  yess?  Come  with  me  to  my  hotel.  You 
shall  see  many  bugs,  such  as  science  hass  not  yet 
known." 

I  was  willing  enough  to  go  with  him ;  and  true  to 
his  word  he  did  show  me  such  quantities  of  carefully 
prepared  and  classified  insects  as  I  had  not  dreamed 
our  own  country  offered. 

"Twelve  new  species !"  he  said,  with  pride.  "Mein 


HUNTER    OF    BUTTERFLIES 


own  country  will  gif  me  honor  for  this.  Five  years 
I  spend.  Now  I  go  back  home. 

"I  shall  not  tell  you  what  nickname  they  gif  me 
in  Oregon,"  he  added,  smiling;  "but  my  real  aame 
Ss  Wolfram  von  Rittenhofen.  Berlin,  it  wass  last 
my  home.  Tell  me,  you  go  soon  to  Oregon?" 

"That  is  very  possible,"  I  answered  ;  arid  this  time 
at  least  I  spoke  the  truth.  "We  are  bound  in  oppo 
site  directions,  but  if  you  are  sailing  for  Europe  this 
spring,  you  would  save  time  and  gain  comfort  by 
starting  from  New  York.  It  would  give  us  -great 
pleasure  if  we  could  welcome  so  distinguished  a  sci 
entist  in  Washington." 

"No,  I  am  not  yet  distinguished.  Only  shall  I  be 
distinguished  when  I  have  shown  my  twelve  new 
species  to  mein  own  university." 

"But  it  would  give  me  pleasure  also  to  show  you 
Washington.  You  should  see  also  the  government 
of  those  backwoodsmen  who  are  crowding  out  to 
Oregon.  Would  you  not  like  to  travel  with  me  in 
America  so  far  as  that?" 

He  shrok  his  head  doubtfully.  "Perhaps  I  make 
mistake  to  come  by  the  St.  Lawrence?  It  would  be 
shorter  to  go  by  New  York?  Well,  I  haf  no  hurry.  I 
think  it  over,  yess." 

"But  tell  me,  where  did  you  get  that  leetle  thing?" 
he  asked  me  again  presently,  taking  up  in  his  hand 
the  Indian  clasp. 


184     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"I  traded  for  it  among  the  Crow  Indians." 

"You  know  what  it  iss,  eh  ?" 

"No,  except  that  it  is  Indian  made." 

He  scanned  the  round  disks  carefully.  "Wait!" 
he  exclaimed.  "I  show  you  sometings." 

He  reached  for  my  pencil,  drew  toward  him  a 
piece  of  paper,  taking  from  his  pocket  meantime  a 
bit  of  string.  Using  the  latter  for  a  radius,  he  drew 
a  circle  on  the  piece  of  paper. 

"Now  look  what  I  do!"  he  said,  as  I  bent  over 
curiously.  "See,  I  draw  a  straight  line  through  the 
circle.  I  divide  it  in  half,  so.  I  divide  it  in  half 
once  more,  and  make  a  point.  Now  I  shorten  my 
string,  one-half.  On  each  side  of  my  long  line  I 
make  me  a  half  circle — only  half  way  round  on  the 
opposite  sides.  So,  uow,  what  I  got,  eh?  You  un 
derstand  him?" 

I  shook  my  head.  He  pointed  in  turn  to  the  rude 
ornamentation  in  the  shell  clasp.  I  declare  that  then 
I  could  see  a  resemblance  between  the  two  designs ! 

"It  is  curious,"  I  said. 

''Mein  Gott!  it  iss  more  than  curious.  It  iss  von- 
derf ul !  I  haf  two  A  mazonias  collected  by  my  own 
hands,  and  twelve  species  of  my  own  discovery,  yess, 
in  butterflies  alone.  That  iss  much  ?  Listen.  It  iss 
notings  !  Here  iss  the  discovery!" 

He  took  a  pace  or  two  excitedly,  and  came  back  to 
thump  with  his  forefinger  on  the  little  desk. 


A    HUNTER    OF    BUTTERFLIES       185 

"What  you  see  before  you  iss  the  sign  of  the  Great 
Monad!  It  iss  known  in  China,  in  Burmah,  in  all 
Asia,  in  all  Japan.  It  iss  sign  of  the  great  One,  of 
>he  great  Two.  In  your  hand  iss  the  Tah  Gook — the 
Oriental  symbol  for  life,  foi  sex.  Myself,  I  haf  seen 
that  in  Sitka  on  Chinese  brasses;  I  haf  seen  it  on 
Japanese  signs,  in  one  land  and  in  another  land.  But 
here  you  show  it  to  me  made  by  the  hand  of  some 
ignorant  aborigine  of  this  continent!  On  this  con 
tinent,  where  it  did  not  originate  and  does  not  be 
long  !  It  iss  a  discovery  i  Science  shall  hear  of  it. 
It  iss  the  link  of  Asia  to  America.  It  brings  me 
fame!" 

He  put  his  hand  into  a  pocket,  and  drew  it  out 
half  filled  with  gold  pieces  and  with  raw  gold  in 
the  form  of  nuggets,  as  though  he  would  offer  ex 
change.  I  waved  him  back.  "No,"  said  I ;  "you 
are  welcome  to  one  of  these  disks,  if  you  please.  If 
you  wish,  I  will  take  one  little  bit  of  these.  But 
tell  me,  where  did  you  find  these  pieces  of  raw 
gold?" 

"Those?  They  are  notings.  I  recollect  me  I 
found  these  one  day  up  on  the  Rogue  River,  not  far 
from  my  cabin.  I  am  pursuing  a  most  beautiful 
moth,  such  as  I  haf  not  in  all  my  collection.  So,  I 
fall  on  a  log;  I  skin  me  my  leg.  In  the  moss  I  find 
some  bits  of  rock.  I  recollect  me  not  where,  but 
.believe  it  wass  somewhere  there.  But  what  I  find 


186     FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY!   OR  FlUflt 

now,  here,  by  a  stranger — it  iss  worth  mor* 
gold!  My  friend,  I  thank  you,  I  embrace  yea!  I 
am  favored  by  fate  to  meet  you.  Go  with  you  to 
Washington?  Yess,  yess,  I  go!" 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE  MISSING  SLIPPER 

There  will  always  remain  something  to  be  said  of  woman  as 
long  as  there  is  one  or  earth. — Bauflers. 

MY  NEW  friend,  I  was  glad  to  note,  seemed 
not  anxious  to  terminate  our  acquaint 
ance,  although  in  his  amiable  and  child 
like  fashion  he  babbled  of  matters  which  to  me 
seemed  unimportant.  He  was  eager  to  propound 
his  views  on  the  connection  of  the  American  tribes 
with  the  peoples  of  the  Orient,  whereas  I  was  all 
for  talking  of  the  connection  of  England  and  the 
United  States  with  Oregon.  Thus  we  passed  the 
luncheon  hour  at  the  hostelry  of  my  friend  Jacques 
Bertillon ;  after  which  I  suggested  a  stroll  about  the 
town  for  a  time,  there  being  that  upon  my  mind 
which  left  me  ill  disposed  to  remain  idle.  He  agreed 
to  my  suggestion,  a  fact  for  which  I  soon  was  to  feel 
thankful  for  more  reasons  than  one. 

Before  we  started  upon  our  stroll,  I  asked  him 
to  step  to  my  own  room,  where  I  had  left  my  pipe. 
As  we  paused  here  for  a  moment,  he  noticed  or,  the 


1 88     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

little  commode  a  pair  of  pistols  of  American  make, 
and,  with  a  word  of  apology,  took  them  up  to  exam 
ine  them. 

"You  also  are  acquainted  with  these?"  he  asked 
politely. 

"It  is  said  that  I  am,"  I  answered. 

"Sometimes  you  need  to  be?"  he  said,  smiling. 
There  smote  upon  me,  even  as  he  spoke,  the  feeling 
that  his  remark  was  strangely  true.  My  eye  fell  on 
the  commode's  top,  casually.  I  saw  that  it  now  was 
bare.  I  recalled  the  strange  warning  of  the  haronessr 
the  evening  previous.  I  was  watched !  My  apart- 
ment  had  been  entered  in  my  absence.  Property  of 
mine  had  been  taken. 

My  perturbation  must  have  been  discoverable  in 
my  face.  "What  iss  it?"  asked  the  old  man.  "You 
forget  someting?" 

"No,"  said  I,  stammering.     "It  is  nothing." 

He  looked  at  me  dubiously.  "Well,  then,"  I  ad- 
mitted ;  "I  miss  something  from  my  commode  here. 
Some  one  has  taken  it." 

"It  iss  of  value,  perhaps?"  he  inquired  politely. 

"Well,  no;  not  of  intrinsic  value.  'Twas  only  a 
dipper — of  white  satin,  made  by  Braun,  of  Paris." 

"One  slipper?  Of  what  use? — " 

"It  belonged  to  a  lady — I  was  about  to  return  it," 
I  said ;  but  I  fear  my  face  showed  me  none  too  calm. 
He  broke  out  in  a  gentle  laugh. 


THE    MISSING    SLIPPER  189 

"So,  then,  we  had  here  the  stage  setting,"  said  he; 
"the  pistols,  the  cause  for  pistols,  sometimes,  eh  ?" 

"It  is  nothing — I  could  easily  explain — " 

"There  iss  not  need,  my  young  friend.  Wass  I  not 
also  young  once?  Yess,  once  wass  I  young."  He  laid 
down  the  pistols,  and  I  placed  them  with  my  already 
considerable  personal  armament,  which  seemed  to 
give  him  no  concern. 

"Each  man  studies  for  himself  his  own  specialty," 
mused  the  old  man.  "You  haf  perhaps  studied  the 
species  of  woman.  Once,  also  I." 

I  laughed,  and  shook  my  head. 

"Many  species  are  there,"  he  went  on ;  "many  with 
wings  of  gold  and  blue  and  green,  of  unknown  col 
ors;  creatures  of  air  and  sky.  Haf  I  not  seen  them? 
But  always  that  one  species  which  we  pursue,  we  do 
not  find.  Once  in  my  life,  in  Oregon,  I  follow 
through  the  forest  a  smell  of  sweet  fields  of  flowers 
coming  to  me.  At  last  I  find  it — a  wide  field  of 
flowers.  It  wass  in  summer  time.  Over  the  flowers 
were  many,  many  butterflies.  Some  of  them  I  knew ; 
some  of  them  I  had.  One  great  new  one,  such  as  I 
haf  not  seen,  it  wass  there.  It  rested.  'I  shall  now 
make  it  mine/  I  said.  It  iss  fame  to  gif  name  first  N 
to  this  so  noble  a  species.  I  would  inclose  it  with 
mein  little  net.  Like  this,  you  see,  I  creep  up  to  it 
As  I  am  about  to  put  it  gently  in  my  net — not  to 
harm  it,  or  break  it,  or  brush  away  the  color  of  its 


FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 


wings  —  lo!  like  a  puff  of  down,  it  rises  and  goes 
above  my  head.  I  reach  for  it;  I  miss.  It  rises  still 
more  ;  it  flies  ;  it  disappears  !  So  !  I  see  it  no  more. 
It  iss  gone.  Stella  Terra  I  name  it  —  my  Star  of  the 
Earth,  that  which  I  crave  but  do  not  always  haf  ,  eh  ? 
Believe  me,  my  friend,  yess,  the  study  of  the  species 
hass  interest  Once  I  wass  young.  Should  I  see  that 
little  shoe  I  think  myself  of  the  time  when  I  wass 
young,  and  made  studies  —  Ach,  Mein  Gott!  —  also  of 
the  species  of  woman  !  I,  too,  saw  it  fly  from  me,  my 
Stella  Terrce!" 

We  walked,  my  friend  still  musing  and  babbling, 
myself  still  anxious  and  uneasy.  We  turned  out  of 
narrow  Notre  Dame  Street,  and  into  St.  Lawrence 
Main  Street.  As  we  strolled  I  noted  without  much 
interest  the  motley  life  about  me,  picturesque  now 
with  the  activities  of  the  advancing  spring.  Pres 
ently,  however,  my  idle  gaze  was  drawn  to  two 
young  Englishmen  whose  bearing  in  some  way  gave 
me  the  impression  that  they  belonged  in  official  or 
military  life,  although  they  were  in  civilian  garb. 

Presently  the  two  halted,  and  separated.  The 
taller  kept  on  to  the  east,  to  the  old  French  town.  At 
length  I  saw  him  joined,  as  though  by  appointment, 
by  another  gentleman,  one  whose  appearance  at  once 
'gave  me  reason  for  a  second  look.  The  severe  air  of 
the  Canadian  spring  seemed  not  pleasing  to  him, 
and  he  wore  his  coat  hunched  up  about  his  neck,  as 


THE    MISSING    SLIPPER  191 

though  he  were  better  used  to  milder  climes.  He  ac 
costed  my  young  Englishman,  and  without  hesita 
tion  the  two  started  off  together.  As  they  did  so  I 
gave  an  involuntary  exclamation.  The  taller  man  I 
had  seen  once  before,  the  shorter,  very  many  times — 
in  Washington ! 

"Yess,"  commented  my  old  scientist  calmly;  "so 
strange!  They  go  together." 

"Ah,  you  know  them !"   I  almost  fell  upon  him. 

"Yess— last  night.  The  tall  one  iss  Mr.  Peel,  a 
young  Englishman ;  the  other  is  Mexican,  they  said 
— Sefior  Yturrio,  of  Mexico.  He  spoke  much.  Me,  I 
wass  sleepy  then.  But  also  that  other  tall  one  we  saw 
go  back — that  wass  Captain  Parke,  also  of  the  Brit 
ish  Navy.  His  ship  iss  the  war  boat  Modeste — a 
fine  one.  I  see  her  often  when  I  walk  on  the  riffer 
front,  there." 

I  turned  to  him  and  made  some  excuse,  saying 
that  presently  I  would  join  him  again  at  the  hotel. 
Dreamily  as  ever,  he  smiled  and  took  his  leave.    For 
myself,  I  walked  on  rapidly  after  the  two  figures 
theft  a  block  or  so  ahead  of  me. 

J  saw  them  turn  into  a  street  which  was  familiar 
to  myself.  They  passed  on,  turning  from  time  to 
time  among  the  old  houses  of  the  French  quarter 
Presently  they  entered  the  short  side  street  which  ) 
myself  had  seen  for  the  first  time  the  previous  night. 
I  pretended  to  busy  myself  with  my  pipe,  as  they 


192     FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

turned  in  at  the  very  gate  which  I  knew,  and 
knocked  at  the  door  which  I  had  entered  with  my 
mysterious  companion! 

The  door  opened  without  delay ;  they  both  entered. 

So,  then,  Helena  von  Ritz  had  other  visitors  !  Eng 
land  and  Mexico  were  indeed  conferring  here  in 
Montreal.  There  were  matters  going  forward  here 
in  which  my  government  was  concerned.  That  was 
evident.  I  was  almost  in  touch  with  them.  That  also 
was  evident.  How,  then,  might  I  gain  yet  closer 
touch  ? 

At  the  moment  nothing  better  occurred  to  me  than 
to  return  to  my  room  and  wait  for  ,a  time.  It  would 
serve  no  purpose  for  me  to  disclose  myself,  either  in 
or  out  of  the  apartments  of  the  baroness,  and  it 
would  not  aid  me  to  be  seen  idling  about  the  neigh 
borhood  in  a  city  where  there  was  so  much  reason 
to  suppose  strangers  were  watched.  I  resolved  to 
wait  until  the  next  morning,  and  to  take  my  friend 
Von  Rittenhofen  with  me.  He  need  not  know  all  that 
I  knew,  yet  in  case  of  any  accident  to  myself  or  any 
sudden  contretemps,  he  would  serve  both  as  a  wit 
ness  and  as  an  excuse  for  disarming  any  suspicion 
which  might  be  entertained  regarding  myself. 

The  next  day  he  readily  enough  fell  in  with  my 
suggestion  of  a  morning  stroll,  and  again  we  sallied 
forth,  at  about  nine  o'clock,  having  by  that  time  fin 
ished  a  dejeuner  a  la  jourchette  with  Jacques  Bertil- 


THE    MISSING    SLIPPER  193 

Ion,  which  to  my  mind  compared  unfavorably  with 
one  certain  other  I  had  shared. 

A  sense  of  uneasiness  began  to  oppress  me,  I  knew 
not  why,  before  I  had  gone  half  way  down  the  little 
street  from  the  corner  where  we  turned.  It  was 
gloomy  and  dismal  enough  at  the  best,  and  on  this 
morning  an  unusual  apathy  seemed  to  sit  upon  it, 
for  few  of  the  shutters  were  down,  although  the  hour 
was  now  mid-morning.  Here  and  there  a  homely 
habitant  appeared,  and  bade  us  good  morning;  and 
once  in  a  while  we  saw  the  face  of  a  good  wife  peer 
ing  from  the  window.  Thus  we  passed  some  dozen 
houses  or  so,  in  a  row,  and  paused  opposite  the  little 
gate.  I  saw  that  the  shutters  were  closed,  or  at 
least  all  but  one  or  two,  which  were  partly  ajar. 
Something  said  to  me  that  it  would  be  as  well  for  me 
to  turn  back. 

I  might  as  well  have  done  so.  We  passed  up  the 
little  walk,  and  I  raised  the  knocker  at  the  door;  but 
even  as  it  sounded  I  knew  what  would  happen. 
There  came  to  me  that  curious  feeling  which  one  ex 
periences  when  one  knocks  at  the  door  of  a  house 
which  lacks  human  occupancy.  Even  more  strongly 
I  had  that  strange  feeling  now,  because  this  sound, 
was  not  merely  that  of  unoccupied  rooms — it  came 
from  rooms  empty  and  echoing ! 

I  tried  the  door.  It  was  not  locked.  I  flung  it 
wide,  and  stepped  within.  At  first  I  could  not  ad-, 


194    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

just  my  eyes  to  the  dimness.  Absolute  silence 
reigned.  I  pushed  open  a  shutter  and  looked  about 
me.  The  rooms  were  not  only  unoccupied,  but  un 
furnished!  The  walls  and  floors  were  utterly  bare! 
Not  a  sign  of  human  occupancy  existed.  I  hastened 
out  to  the  little  walk,  and  looked  up  and  down  the 
street,  to  satisfy  myself  that  I  had  made  no  mistake. 
No,  this  was  the  number — this  was  the  place.  Yes 
terday  these  rooms  were  fitted  sumptuously  as  for  a 
princess ;  now  they  were  naked.  Not  a  stick  of  the 
furniture  existed,  nor  was  there  any  trace  either  of 
haste  or  deliberation  in  this  removal.  What  had 
been,  simply  was  not;  that  was  all. 

Followed  by  my  wondering  companion,  I  made 
such  inquiry  as  I  could  in  the  little  neighborhood.  I 
could  learn  nothing.  No  one  knew  anything  of  the 
occupant  of  these  rooms.  No  one  had  heard  any 
carts  approach,  nor  had  distinguished  any  sounds 
during  the  night. 

"Sir,"  said  I  to  my  friend,  ,at  last;  "I  do  not  un 
derstand  it.  I  have  pursued,  but  it  seems  the  but 
terfly  has  flown."  So,  both  silent,  myself  morosely 
so,  we  turned  and  made  our  way  back  across  the 
town. 

Half  an  hour  later  we  were  on  the  docks  at  the, 
river  front,  where  we  could  look  out  over  the  varied 
shipping  which  lay  there.  My  scientific  friend: 


THE    MISSING    SLIPPER  19$ 

counted  one  vessel  after  another,  and  at  last  pointed 
to  a  gap  in  the  line. 

"Yesterday  I  wass  here/'  he  said,  "and  I  counted 
all  the  ships  and  their  names.  The  steamer  Modeste 
she  lay  there.  Now  she  iss  gone." 

I  pulled  up  suddenly.  This  was  the  ship  which 
carried  Captain  Parke  and  his  friend  Lieutenant 
Peel,  of  the  British  Navy.  The  secret  council  at 
Montreal  was,  therefore,  apparently  ended!  There 
would  be  an  English  land  expedition,  across  Canada 
to  Oregon.  Would  there  be  also  an  expedition  by 
sea  ?  At  least  my  errand  in  Montreal,  now  finished, 
had  not  been  in  vain,  even  though  it  ended  in  a  mys 
tery  and  a  query.  But  ah !  had  I  but  been  less 
clumsy  in  that  war  of  wits  with  a  woman,  what 
might  I  have  learned!  Had  she  not  been  free  to 
mock  me,  what  might  I  not  have  learned !  She  was 
free  to  mock  me,  why  ?  Because  of  Elisabeth.  Was 
it  then  true  that  faith  and  loyalty  could  purchase 
alike  faithlessness  and — failure? 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  TENNESSEE 

Women  distrust  men  too  much  in  general,  and  not  enough  ifi 
particular. — Philibert  Commerson. 

NOW  all  the  more  was  it  necessary  for  me  and 
my  friend  from   Oregon  to  hasten  on  to 
Washington.     I  say  nothing  further  of  the 
arguments  I  employed  with  him,  and  nothing  of  our 
journey  to  Washington,  save  that  we  made  it  hastily 
as  possible.     It  was  now  well  toward  the  middle  of 
April,  and,  brief  as  had  been  my  absence,  I  knew 
there  had  been  time  for  many  things  to  happen  in 
Washington  as  well  as  in  Montreal. 

Rumors  abounded,  I  found  as  soon  as  I  struck  the 
first  cities  below  the  Canadian  line.     It  was  in  the 
v « air  now  that  under  Calhoun  there  would  be  put  be 
fore  Congress  a  distinct  and  definite  attempt  at  the 
'annexation  of  Texas.     Stories  of  all  sorts  were  on 
the  streets;  rumors  of  the  wrath  of  Mr.  Clay;  yet 
other  rumors  of  interesting  possibilities  at  the  com 
ing  Whig  and  Democratic  conventions.   Everywhere 
was  that  strange,  ominous,  indescribable  tension  of 

196 


THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  TENNESSEE    197 

the  atmosphere  which  exists  when  a  great  people  is 
moved  deeply.  The  stern  figure  of  Calhoun,  fur 
nishing  courage  for  a  people,  even  as  he  had  for  a 
president,  loomed  large  in  the  public  prints. 

Late  as  it  was  when  I  reached  Washington,  I  did 
not  hesitate  to  repair  at  once  to  the  residence  of  Mr.f 
Calhoun;  and  I  took  with  me  as  my  best  adjutant 
my  strange  friend  Von  Rittenhofen,  who,  I  fancied, 
might  add  detailed  information  which  Mr.  Calhoun 
would  find  of  value.  We  were  admitted  to  Mr.  Cal 
houn,  and  after  the  first  greetings  he  signified  that 
he  would  hear  my  report  He  sat,  his  long,  thin 
hands  on  his  chair  arm,  as  I  went  on  with  my  story, 
his  keen  eyes  scanning  also  my  old  companion  as  I 
spoke.  I  explained  what  the  latter  knew  regarding 
Oregon.  I  saw  Mr.  Calhoun's  eyes  kindle.  As  usual, 
he  did  not  lack  decision. 

"Sir,"  said  he  to  Von  Rittenhofen  presently,  "we 
ourselves  are  young,  yet  I  trust  not  lacking  in  a 
great  nation's  interest  in  the  arts  and  sciences.  It 
occurs  to  me  now  that  in  yourself  we  have  oppor 
tunity  to  add  to  our  store  of  knowledge  in  respect  to 
certain  biological  features." 

The  old  gentleman  rose  and  bowed.  "I  thank  you 
for  the  honor  of  your  flattery,  sir,"  he  began;  buj^ 
Calhoun  raised  a  gentle  hand. 

"If  it  would  please  you,  sir,  to  defer  your  visit  to 
your  own  country  for  a  time,  I  can  secure  for  you 


198     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

ia  situation  in  our  department  in  biology,  where  youi 
services  would  be  of  extreme  worth  to  us.  The  sal 
ary  would  also  allow  you  to  continue  your  private 
researches  into  the  life  of  our  native  tribes." 

Von  Rittenhofen  positively  glowed  at  this.  "Ach, 
what  an  honor !"  he  began  again. 

"Meantime,"  resumed  Calhoun,  "not  to  mention 
the  value  which  that  research  would  have  for  us,  we 
could  also  find  use,  at  proper  remuneration,  for  your 
private  aid  in  making  up  a  set  of  maps  of  that  west 
ern  country  which  you  know  so  well,  and  of  which 
even  I  myself  am  so  ignorant.  I  want  to  know  the 
distances,  the  topography,  the  means  of  travel.  I 
want  to  know  the  peculiarities  of  that  country  of 
Oregon.  It  would  take  me  a  year  to  send  a  mes 
senger,  for  at  best  it  requires  six  months  to  make  the 
outbound  passage,  and  in  the  winter  the  mountains 
are  impassable.  If  you  could,  then,  take  service  with 
us  now,  we  should  be  proud  to  make  you  such  return 
as  your  scientific  attainments  deserve." 

Few  could  resist  the  persuasiveness  of  Mr.  Cal- 
houn's  speech,  certainly  not  Von  Rittenhofen,  who 
thus  found  offered  him  precisely  what  he  would  have 
desired.  I  was  pleased  to  see  him  so  happily  situated 
and  so  soon.  Presently  we  despatched  him  down  to 
my  hotel,  where  I  promised  later  to  make  him  more 
at  home.  In  his  elation  over  the  prospect  he  now  saw 
before  him,  the  old  man  fairly  babbled.  Germany 


THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  TENNESSEE    199 

seemed  farthest  from  his  mind.  After  his  departure, 
Calhotm  again  turned  to  me. 

"I  want  you  to  remain,  Nicholas,"  said  he,  "be 
cause  I  have  an  appointment  with  a  gentleman  who 
will  soon  be  present" 

"Rather  a  late  hour,  sir,"  I  ventured.  "Are  you 
keeping  faith  with  Doctor  Ward?" 

"I  have  no  time  for  hobbies,"  he  exclaimed,  half 
petulantly.  "What  I  must  do  is  this  work.  The  man 
we  are  to  meet  to-night  is  Mr.  Polk.  It  is  impor 
tant" 

"You  would  not  call  Mr.  Polk  important?"  I 
smiled  frankly,  and  Calhoun  replied  in  icy  kind. 

"You  can  not  tell  how  large  a  trouble  may  be 
started  by  a  small  politician/'  said  he.  "At  least,  we 
will  hear  what  he  has  to  say.  'Twas  he  that  sought 
the  meeting,  not  myself." 

Perhaps  half  an  hour  later,  Mr.  Calhoun's  old 
negro  man  ushered  in  this  awaited  guest,  and  we 
three  found  ourselves  alone  in  one  of  those  midnight 
conclaves  which  went  on  in  Washington  even  then  as 
they  do  to-day.  Mr.  Polk  was  serious  as  usual ;  his 
indecisive  features  wearing  the  mask  of  solemnity, 
which  with  so  many  passed  as  wisdom. 

"I  have  come,  Mr.  Calhoun,"  said  he — when  the 
latter  had  assured  him  that  my  presence  would  en 
tail  no  risk  to  him — "to  talk  over  this  Texas  situa 
tion." 


200     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

"Very  well,"  said  my  chief.  "My  own  intention* 
regarding  Texas  are  now  of  record." 

"Precisely,"  said  Mr.  Polk.  "Now,  is  it  wise  to 
make  a  definite  answer  in  that  matter  yet?  Would  it 
not  be  better  to  defer  action  until  later — until  after, 
I  may  say — " 

"Until  after  you  know  what  your  own  chances  will 
be,  Jim?"  asked  Mr.  Calhoun,  smiling  grimly. 

"Why,  that  is  it,  John,  precisely,  that  is  it  exactly ! 
Now,  I  don't  know  what  you  think  of  my  chances  in 
the  convention,  but  I  may  say  that  a  very  large 
Branch  of  the  western  Democracy  is  favoring  me 
for  the  nomination."  Mr.  Polk  pursed  a  short  upper 
lip  and  looked  monstrous  grave.  His  extreme  mor 
ality  and  his  extreme  dignity  made  his  chief  stock 
in  trade.  Different  from  his  master,  Old  Hickory, 
he  was  really  at  heart  the  most  aristocratic  of  Demo 
crats,  and  like  many  another  so-called  leader,  most 
of  his  love  for  the  people  really  was  love  of  himself. 

"Yes,  I  know  that  some  very  strange  things  hap 
pen  in  politics,"  commented  Calhoun,  smiling. 

"But,  God  bless  me!  you  don't  call  it  out  of  the 
way  for  me  to  seek  the  nomination  ?  Some  one  must 
be  president!  Why  not  myself?  Now,  I  ask  your 
support." 

"My  support  is  worth  little,  Jim,"  said  my  chief. 
"But  have  you  earned  it?  You  have  never  consulted 
my  welfare,  nor  has  Jackson.  I  had  no  majority  be- 


THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  TENNESSEE    201 

hind  me  in  the  Senate.  I  doubt  even  the  House  now. 
Of  what  use  could  I  be  to  you  ?" 

"At  least,  you  could  decline  to  do  anything  defi 
nite  in  this  Texas  matter." 

"Why  should  a  man  ever  do  anything  /^definite, 
Jim  Polk?"  asked  Calhoun,  bending  on  him  his 
frosty  eyes. 

"But  you  may  set  a  fire  going  which  you  can  not 
stop.  The  people  may  get  out  of  hand  before  the 
convention!" 

"Why  should  they  not?  They  have  interests  as 
well  as  we.  Do  they  not  elect  us  to  subserve  those 
interests?" 

"I  yield  to  no  man  in  my  disinterested  desire  for 
the  welfare  of  the  American  people,"  began  Polk 
pompously,  throwing  back  the  hair  from  his  fore 
head. 

"Of  course  not,"  said  Calhoun  grimly.  "My  own 
idea  is  that  it  is  well  to  give  the  people  wha'_  is  al 
ready  theirs.  They  feel  that  Texas  belongs  to  them." 

"True,"  said  the  Tennesseean,  hesitating;  "a  good 
strong  blast  about  our  martial  spirit  and  the  men  of 
the  Revolution — that  is  always  good  before  an  elec 
tion  or  a  convention.  Very  true.  But  now  in  my  own 
case—" 

"Your  own  case  is  not  under  discussion,  Jim.  It  *s 
the  case  of  the  United  States!  I  hold  a  brief  fcr 
them,  not  for  you  or  any  other  man !" 


202     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

"How  do  you  stand  in  case  war  should  be  declared 
against  Mexico?"  asked  Mr.  Polk.  "That  ought  to 
be  a  popular  measure.  The  Texans  have  captured 
the  popular  imagination.  The  Alamo  rankles  in  our 
nation's  memory.  What  would  you  say  to  a  stiff 
demand  there,  with  a  strong  show  of  military  force 
behind  it?" 

"I  should  say  nothing  as  to  a  strong  showing  irv 
any  case.  I  should  only  say  that  if  war  came  legiti 
mately — not  otherwise — I  should  back  it  with  all  my 
might.  I  feel  the  same  in  regard  to  war  with  Eng 
land." 

"With  England?  What  chance  would  we  have 
with  so  powerful  a  nation  as  that  ?" 

"There  is  a  God  of  Battles,"  said  John  Calhoun. 

The  chin  of  James  K.  Polk  of  Tennessee  sank 
down  into  his  stock.  His  staring  eyes  went  half  shut. 
He  was  studying  something  in  his  own  mind.  At  last 
he  spoke,  tentatively,  as  was  always  his  way  until 
he  got  the  drift  of  things. 

"Well,  now,  perhaps  in  the  case  of  England  that 
is  good  politics,"  he  began.  "It  is  very  possible  that 
the  people  hate  England  as  much  as  they  do  Mexico. 
Do  you  not  think  so?" 

"I  think  they  fear  her  more." 

"But  I  was  only  thinking  of  the  popular  imag 
ination  !" 

"You  are  always  thinking  of  the  popular  imagina* 


THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  TENNESSEE    203 

tion,  Jim.  You  have  been  thinking  of  tnat  for  some 
time  in  Tennessee.  All  that  outcry  about  the  whole 
of  Oregon  is  ill-timed  to-day/" 

"Fifty- four  Forty  o;-  Fight;  that  sounds  well!" 
exclaimed  Polk;  "eh?" 

"Tripping!/  on  jhe  tongue,  yes !"  said  John  Cal- 
houn.  "But  how  would  it  sound  to  the  tune  of 
cannon  fire?  How  would  it  look  written  in  the 
smoke  of  musketry?" 

"It  might  not  come  to  that,"  said  ?olk,  shifting  in 
hib  seat.  "I  was  thinking  of  it  only  as  a  rallying 
cry  for  the  campaign.  Dash  me — I  beg  pardon — " 
he  looked  around  to  see  if  there  were  any  Method 
ists  present — "but"  1  believe  I  could  go  into  the  con 
vention  with  that  war  cry  behind  me  and  sweep  the 
boards  of  all  opposition !" 

"And  afterwards?" 

"But  England  may  back  down,"  argued  Mr.  Polk. 
"A  strong  showing  in  the  Southwest  and  Northwest 
might  do  wonders  for  us." 

"But  what  would  be  behind  that  strong  showing, 
Mr.  Polk?"  demanded  John  Calhoun.  "We  would 
win  the  combat  with  Mexico,  of  course,  if  that 
iniquitous  measure  should  take  the  form  of  war. 
But  not  Oregon — we  might  as  well  or  better  fight  in 
Africa  than  Oregon.  It  is  not  yet  time.  In  God's 
name,  Jim  Polk,  be  careful  of  what  you  do !  Cease 
this  cry  of  taking  all  of  Oregon.  You  will  plunge 


304     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

this  country  not  into  one  war,  but  two.  Wait !  Only 
wait,  and  we  will  own  all  this  continent  to  the  Sas 
katchewan — or  even  farther  north/' 

"Well,"  said  the  other,  "have  you  not  said  there  is, 
a  God  of  Battles?" 

"The  Lord  God  of  Hosts,  yes!"  half  screamed 
old  John  Calhoun ;  "yes>  the  God  of  Battles  for 
nations,  for  principles — but  not  for  parties!  For  the 
principle  of  democracy,  Jim  Polk,  yes,  yes;  but  for 
the  Democratic  party,  or  the  Whig  party,  or  for  any 
demagogue  who  tries  to  lead  either,  no,  no !" 

The  florid  face  of  Polk  went  livid.  "Sir,"  said  he, 
reaching  for  his  hat,  "at  least  I  have  learned  what  I 
came  to  learn.  I  know  how  you  will  appear  on  the 
floor  of  the  convention.  Sir,  you  will  divide  this 
party  hopelessly.  You  are  a  traitor  to  the  Demo 
cratic  party !  I  charge  it  to  your  face,  here  and  now. 
I  came  to  ask  of  you  your  support,  and  find  you  only 
talking  of  principles !  Sir,  tell  me,  what  have  prin 
ciples  to  do  with  elections?" 

John  Calhoun  looked  at  him  for  one  long  instant. 
He  looked  down  then  at  his  own  thin,  bloodless 
hands,  his  wasted  limbs.  Then  he  turned  slowly 
and  rested  his  arms  on  the  table,  his  face  resting  in 
his  hands.  "My  God !"  I  heard  him  groan. 

To  see  my  chief  abused  was  a  thing  not  in  my 
nature  to  endure.  I  forgot  myself.  I  committed  an 
act  whose  results  pursued  me  for  many  a  year. 


THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  TENNESSEE    205 

"Mr.  Polk,  sir/'  said  I,  rising  and  facing  him, 
"damn  you,  sir,  you  are  not  fit  to  untie  Mr.  Cal- 
houn's  shoe !  I  will  not  see  you  offer  him  one  word 
of  insult  Quarrel  with  me  if  you  like!  You  will 
gain  no  votes  here  now  in  any  case,  that  is  sure!" 

Utterly  horrified  at  this,  Mr.  Polk  fumbled  with 
his  hat  and  cane,  and,  very  red  in  the  face,  bowed 
himself  out,  still  mumbling,  Mr.  Calhoun  rising  and 
bowing  his  adieux. 

My  chief  dropped  into  his  chair  again.  For  a 
moment  he  looked  at  me  directly.  "Nick,"  said  he 
at  length  slowly,  "you  have  divided  the  Democratic 
party.  You  split  that  party,  right  then  and  there." 

"Never!"  I  protested;  "but  if  I  did,  'twas  ready 
enough  for  the  division.  Let  it  split,  then,  or  any 
party  like  it,  if  that  is  what  must  hold  it  together! 
I  will  not  stay  in  this  work,  Mr.  Calhoun,  and  hear 
you  vilified.  Platforms !" 

"Platforms !"  echoed  my  chief.     His  white  hand 
dropped  on  the  table  as  he  still  sat  looking  at  me 
"But   he  will   get  you   some  time,    Nicholas!"   he 
^smiled.     "Jim  Polk  will  not  forget." 

"Let  him  come  at  me  as  he  likes  !"  I  fumed. 

At  last,  seeing  me  so  wrought  up,  Mr.  Calhoun 
•rose,  and,  smiling,  shook  me  heartily  by  the  hand. 

"Of  course,  this  had  to  come  one  time  or  another," 
said  he.  "The  split  was  in  the  wood  of  their  pro 
posed  platform  of  bluff  and  insincerity.  'What  do 


206     FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

the  people  say?1  asks  Jim  Polk.  'What  do  they 
think?'  asks  John  Calhoun.  And  being  now,  in 
God's  providence,  chosen  to  do  some  thinking  for 
them,  I  have  thought." 

He  turned  to  the  table  and  took  up  a  long,  folded 
document,  which  I  saw  was  done  in  his  cramped 
hand  and  with  many  interlineations.  "Copy  this  out: 
fair  for  me  to-night,  Nicholas,"  said  he.  'This  is  our 
answer  to  the  Aberdeen  note.  You  have  already 
learned  its  tenor,  the  time  we  met  Mr.  Pakenham 
with  Mr.  Tyler  at  the  White  House." 

I  grinned.  "Shall  we  not  take  it  across  direct  to 
Mr.  Blair  for  publication  in  his  Globe?" 

Mr.  Calhoun  smiled  rather  bitterly  at  this  jest. 
The  hostility  of  Blair  to  the  Tyler  administration 
was  a  fact  rather  more  than  well  known. 

"  'Twill  all  get  into  Mr.  Folk's  newspaper  fast 
enough,"  commented  he  at  last.  "He  gets  all  the 
news  of  the  Mexican  ministry !" 

"Ah,  you  think  he  cultivates  the  Dona  Lucrezia, 
rather  than  adores  her!" 

"I  know  it!  One-third  of  Jim  Polk  may  be  hu 
man,  but  the  other  two-thirds  is  politician.  He  will 
flatter  that  lady  into  confidences.  She  is  well  nigh 
distracted  at  best,  these  days,  what  with  the  fickleness; 
of  her  husband  and  the  yet  harder  abandonment  by 
her  old  admirer  Pakenham ;  so  Polk  will  cajole  her 
into  disclosures,  never  fear.  In  return,  when  the 


THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  TENNESSEE    207 

time  comes,  he  will  send  an  army  of  occupation  into 
her  country !  And  all  the  while,  on  the  one  side  and 
the  other,  he  will  appear  to  the  public  as  a  moral  and 
lofty-minded  man." 

"On  whom  neither  man  nor  woman  could  de~ 
pend!" 

"Neither  the  one  nor  the  other." 

The  exasperation  of  his  tone  amused  me,  as  did 
this  chance  importance  of  what  seemed  to  me  at  the 
time  merely  a  petticoat  situation. 

"Silk!  Mr.  Calhoun,"  I  grinned.  "Still  silk  and 
dimity,  my  faith  !  And  you  !" 

He  seemed  a  trifle  nettled  at  this.  "I  must  take 
men  and  women  and  circumstances  as  I  find  them," 
he  rejoined;  "and  must  use  such  agencies  as  are  left 
me." 

"If  we  temporarily  lack  the  Baroness  von  Ritz  to 
add  zest  to  our  game,"  I  hazarded,  "we  still  have  the 
Dona  Lucrezia  and  her  little  jealousies." 

Calhoun  turned  quickly  upon  me  with  a  sharp 
glance,  as  though  seized  by  some  sudden  thought. 
"By  the  Lord  Harry !  boy,  you  give  me  an  idea. 
Wait,  now,  for  a  moment.  Do  you  go  on  with  your 
copying  there,  and  excuse  me  for  a  time." 

An  instant  later  he  passed  from  the  room,  his  tall 
figure  bent,  his  hands  clasped  behind  his  back,  and 
his  face  wrinkled  in  a  frown,  as  was  his  wont  when 
occupied  with  some  problem. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  LADY  FROM  MEXICO 

As  soon  as  women  are  ours,  we  are  no  longer  theirs. 

— Montaigne. 

AFTER  a  time  my  chief  reentered  the  office 
/  \  room  and  bent  over  me  at  my  table.    I  put  be- 
JL    JL.  fore  him  the  draft  of  the  document  which  he 
had  given  me  for  clerical  care. 

"So,"  he  said,  "  'tis  ready — our  declaration.     I 
^wonder  what  may  come  of  that  little  paper !" 

"Much  will  come  of  it  with  a  strong  people  back 
of  it.  The  trouble  is  only  that  what  Democrat  does, 
Whig  condemns.  And  not  even  all  our  party  is  with 
Mr.  Tyler  and  yourself  in  this,  Mr.  Calhoun.  Look, 
for  instance,  at  Mr.  Polk  and  his  plans."  To  this  ven 
ture  on  my  part  he  made  no  present  answer. 

"I  have  no  party,  that  is  true,"  said  he  at  last— 
"none  but  you  and  Sam  Ward!"  He  smiled  with 
one  of  his  rare,  illuminating  smiles,  different  from 
-he  cold  mirth  which  often  marked  him. 

"At  least,  Mr.  Calhoun,  you  do  not  take  on  your 
work  for  the  personal  glory  of  it,"  said  I  hotly ;  "and 
one  day  the  world  will  know  it !" 

208 


THE    LADY    FROM    MEXICO         209 

"  Twill  matter  very  little  to  me  then/'  said  he 
bitterly.  "But  come,  now,  I  want  more  news  about 
your  trip  to  Montreal.  What  have  you  done?" 

So  now,  till  far  towards  dawn  of  the  next  day,  we 
'.sat  and  talked.  I  put  before  him  full  details  of  my 
doings  across  the  border.  He  sat  silent,  his  eye  be 
times  wandering,  as  though  absorbed,  again  fixed 
on  me,  keen  and  glittering. 

"So !  So !"  he  mused  at  length,  when  I  had  fin 
ished,  "England  has  started  a  land  party  for  Ore 
gon  !  Can  they  get  across  next  fall,  think  you  ?" 

"Hardly  possible,  sir,"  said  I.  "They  could  not 
go  so  swiftly  as  the  special  fur  packets.  Winter 
would  catch  them  this  side  of  the  Rockies.  It  will 
be  a  year  before  they  can  reach  Oregon." 

"Time  for  a  new  president  and  a  new  policy," 
mused  he. 

"The  grass  is  just  beginning  to  sprout  on  the 
plains,  Mr.  Calhoun,"  I  began  eagerly. 

"Yes,"  he  nodded.    "God!  if  I  were  only  young!" 

"I  am  young,  Mr.  Calhoun,"  said  I.    "Send  me!" 

"Would  you  go  ?"  he  asked  suddenly. 

"I  was  going  in  any  case." 

"Why,  how  do  you  mean?"  he  demanded. 

I  felt  the  blood  come  to  my  face.  "  'Tis  all  over 
between  Miss  Elisabeth  Churchill  and  myself,"  said 
I,  as  calmly  as  I  might. 


210     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

"Tut!  tut!  a  child's  quarrel,"  he  went  on,  "» 
child's  quarrel !  'Twill  all  mend  in  time." 

"Not  by  act  of  mine,  then,"  said  I  hotly. 

Again  abstracted,  he  seemed  not  wholly  to  hear 
me. 

"First,"  he  mused,  "the  more  important  things" — 
riding  over  my  personal  affairs  as  of  little  conse 
quence. 

"I  will  tell  you,  Nicholas,"  said  he  at  last,  wheel 
ing  swiftly  upon  me.  "Start  next  week !  An  army  of 
settlers  waits  now  for  a  leader  along  the  Missouri. 
Organize  them;  lead  them  out!  Give  them  enthusi 
asm  !  Tell  them  what  Oregon  is !  You  may  serve 
alike  our  party  and  our  nation.  You  can  not  measure 
the  consequences  of  prompt  action  sometimes,  done 
by  a  man  who  is  resolved  upon  the  right.  A  thou 
sand  things  may  hinge  on  this.  A  great  future  may 
hinge  upon  it." 

It  was  only  later  that  I  was  to  know  the  extreme 
closeness  of  his  prophecy. 

Calhoun  began  to  pace  up  and  down.  "Besides 
her  land  forces,"  he  resumed,  "England  is  despatch 
ing  a  fleet  to  the  Columbia!  I  doubt  not  that  th* 
Modeste  has  cleared  for  the  Horn.  There  may  be 
news  waiting  for  you,  my  son,  when  you  get  across ! 

"While  you  have  been  busy,  I  have  not  been  idle," 
he  continued.  "I  have  here  another  little  paper 


THE    LADY    FROM    MEXICO         211 

which  I  have  roughly  drafted."  He  handed  me  the 
document  as  he  spoke. 

"A  treaty — with  Texas !"  I  exclaimed. 

"The  first  draft,  yes.  We  have  signed  the  mem* 
orandum.  We  a\vait  only  one  other  signature." 

"Of  VanZandt!" 

"Yes.  Now  comes  Mr.  Nicholas  Trist,  with  word 
of  a  certain  woman  to  the  effect  that  Mr.  Van  Zandt 
is  playing  also  with  England." 

"And  that  woman  aiso  is  playing  with  England." 

Calhoun  smiled  enigmatically. 

"But  she  has  gone,"  said  I,  "who  knows  where? 
She,  too,  may  have  sailed  for  Oregon,  for  all  we 
know." 

He  looked  at  me  as  though  with  a  flash  of  in 
spiration.  "That  may  be,"  said  he;  "it  may  very 
well  be!  That  would  cost  us  our  hold  over  Paken- 
ham.  Neither  would  we  have  any  chance  left  with 
her." 

"How  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Calhoun?"  said  I.  "I  do 
not  understand  you." 

"Nicholas,"  said  Mr.  Calhoun,  "that  lady  was 
much  impressed  with  you."  He  regarded  me  calmly, 
contemplatively,  appraisingly. 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  I  reiterated. 

"I  am  glad  that  you  do  not  and  did  not.  In  that 
case,  all  would  have  been  over  at  once.  You  would 


212     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

never  have  seen  her  a  second  time.  Your  constancy 
'.was  our  salvation,  and  perhaps  your  own !" 

He  smiled  in  a  way  I  liked  none  too  well,  but  now 
I  began  myself  to  engage  in  certain  reflections.  Was 
it  then  true  that  faith  could  purchase  faith — and  win 
not  failure,  but  success? 

"At  least  she  has  flown,"  went  on  Calhoun.  "But 
why  ?  What  made  her  go  ?  'Tic  all  over  now,  un 
less,  unless — unless — "  he  added  to  himself  a  third 
time. 

"But  unless  what?" 

"Unless  that  chance  word  may  have  had  some 
weight.  You  say  that  you  and  she  talked  of  prin 
ciples?" 

"Yes,  we  went  so  far  into  abstractions." 

"So  did  I  with  her!  I  told  her  about  this  coun 
try  ;  explained  to  her  as  I  could  the  beauties  of  the 
idea  of  a  popular  government.  JTw,as  as  a  revela 
tion  to  her.  She  had  never  known  a  republican 
government  before,  student  as  she  is.  Nicholas, 
your  long  legs  and  my  long  head  may  have  done 
some  work  after  all!  How  did  she  seem  to  part 
with  you  ?" 

"As  though  she  hated  me;  as  though  she  hated 
herself  and  all  the  world.  Yet  not  quite  that,  either. 
As  though  she  would  have  wept — that  is  the  truth. 
I  do  not  pretend  to  understand  her.  She  is  a  puzzle 
such  as  I  have  never  known." 


THE    LADY    FROM    MEXICO         213 

"Nor  are  you  apt  to  know  another  her  like.  Look, 
here  she  is,  the  paid  spy,  the  secret  agent,  of  Eng 
land.  Additionally,  she  is  intimately  concerned 
with  the  private  life  of  Mr.  Pakenham.  For  the  love 
of  adventure,  she  is  engaged  in  intrigue  also  with 
!  Mexico.  Not  content  with  that,  born  adventuress, 
eager  devourer  of  any  hazardous  and  interesting  in 
tellectual  offering,  any  puzzle,  any  study,  any  in 
trigue — she  comes  at  midnight  to  talk  with  me, 
whom  she  knows  to  be  the  representative  of  yet  a 
third  power !" 

"And  finds  you  in  your  red  nightcap !"  I  laughed. 

"Did  she  speak  of  that?"  asked  Mr.  Calhoun  in 
consternation,  raising  a  hand  to  his  head.  "It  may 
be  that  I  forgot — but  none  the  less,  she  came ! 

"Yes,  as  I  said,  she  came,  by  virtue  of  your  long 
legs  and  your  ready  way,  as  I  must  admit ;  and  you 
were  saved  from  her  only,  .as  I  believe —  Why,  God 
bless  Elisabeth  Churchill,  my  boy,  that  is  all !  But 
my  faith,  how  nicely  it  all  begins  to  work  out!" 

"I  do  not  share  your  enthusiasm,  Mr.  Calhoun," 
•said  I  bitterly.  "On  the  contrary,  it  seems  to  me  to 
work  out  in  as  bad  a  fashion  as  could  possibly  be 
contrived." 

"In  due  time  you  will  see  many  things  more 
plainly.  Meantime,  be  sure  England  will  be  careful. 
She  will  make  no  overt  movement,  I  should  sayv 
until  she  has  heard  from  Oregon;  which  will  not  be 


214     FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

before  my  lady  baroness  shall  have  returned  and 
reported  to  Mr.  Pakenham  here.  All  of  which  means 
more  time  for  us." 

I  began  to  see  something  of  the  structure  of  bolJ 
enterprise  which  this  man  deliberately  was  planning: 
but  no  comment  offered  itself;  so  that  presently  he 
went  on,  as  though  in  soliloquy. 

"The  Hudson  Bay  Company  have  deceived  Eng 
land  splendidly  enough.  Doctor  McLaughlin,  good 
man  that  he  is,  has  not  suited  the  Hudson  Bay 
Company.  His  removal  means  less  courtesy  to  our 
settlers  in  Oregon.  Granted  a  less  tactful  leader 
than  himself,  there  will  be  friction  with  our  high- 
strung  frontiersmen  in  that  country.  No  man  can 
tell  when  the  thing  will  come  to  an  issue.  For  my 
own  part,  I  would  agree  with  Polk  that  we  ought  to 
own  that  country  to  fifty-four  forty — but  what  we 
ought  to  do  and  what  we  can  do  are  two  separate 
matters.  Should  we  force  the  issue  now  and  lose, 
we  would  lose  for  a  hundred  years.  Should  we  ad 
vance  firmly  and  hold  firmly  what  we  gain,  in  per 
haps  less  than  one  hundred  years  we  may  win  all  of 
that  country,  as  I  just  said  to  Mr.  Polk,  to  the  Rivef 
Saskatchewan — -I  know  not  where !  In  my  own  soul,, 
I  believe  no  man  may  set  a  limit  to  the  growth  of  the 
idea  of  an  honest  government  by  the  people.  And 
this  continent  is  meant  for  that  honest  government!" 

"We  have  already  a  Monroe  Doctrine,  Mr.  Cal- 


THE    LADY    FROM    MEXICO         215 

houn,"  said  I.  "What  you  enunciate  now  is  yet  more 
startling.  Shall  we  call  it  the  Calhoun  Doctrine?" 

He  made  no  answer,  but  arose  and  paced  up  and 
down,  stroking  the  thin  fringe  of  beard  under  Ms 
chin.  Still  he  seemed  to  talk  with  himself. 

"We  are  not  rich,"  he  went  on.  "Our  canals  and 
railways  are  young.  The  trail  across  our  country  is 
of  monstrous  difficulty.  Give  us  but  a  few  years 
more  and  Oregon,  ripe  as  a  plum,  would  drop  in  our 
lap.  To  hinder  that  is  a  crime.  What  Polk  pro 
poses  is  insincerity,  and  all  insincerity  must  fail. 
There  is  but  one  result  when  pretense  is  pitted 
against  preparedness.  Ah,  if  ever  we  needed  wis 
dom  and  self-restraint,  we  need  them  now !  Yet  look 
at  what  we  face !  Look  at  what  we  may  lose !  And 
that  through  party — through  platform — through 
politics!" 

He  sighed  as  he  paused  in  his  walk  and  turned  to 
me.  "But  now,  as  I  said,  we  have  at  least  time  for 
Texas.  And  in  regard  to  Texas  we  need  another 
woman." 

I  stared  at  him. 

"You  come  now  to  me  with  proof  that  my  lady 
baroness  traffics  with  Mexico  as  well  as  England," 
he  resumed.  "That  is  to  say,  Yturrio  meets  my  lady 
baroness.  What  is  the  inference?  At  least,  jealousy 
on  the  part  of  Yturrio's  wife,  whether  or  not  she 
cares  for  him!  Now,  jealousy  between  the  sexes  is 


2i6    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

a  deadly  weapon  if  well  handled.  Repugnant  as  it 
is,  we  must  handle  it" 

I  experienced  no  great  enthusiasm  at  the  trend  of 
events,  and  Mr.  Calhoun  smiled  at  me  cynically  as 
he  went  on.  "I  see  you  don't  care  for  this  sort  of 
commission.  At  least,  this  is  no  midnight  interview. 
You  shall  call  in  broad  daylight  on  the  Senora 
Yturrio.  If  you  and  my  daughter  will  take  my 
coach  and  four  to-morrow,  I  think  she  will  gladly 
receive  your  cards.  Perhaps  also  she  will  consent  to 
take  the  air  of  Washington  with  you.  In  that  case, 
she  might  drop  in  here  for  an  ice.  In  such  case,  to 
conclude,  I  may  perhaps  be  favored  with  an  inter 
view  with  that  lady.  I  must  have  Van  Zandt's  sig 
nature  to  this  treaty  which  you  see  here!" 

"But  these  are  Mexicans,  and  Van  Zandt  is  leader 
of  the  Texans,  their  most  bitter  enemies !" 

"Precisely.  All  the  less  reason  why  Senora  Ytur 
rio  should  be  suspected." 

"I  am  not  sure  that  I  grasp  all  this,  Mr.  Calhoun." 

"Perhaps  not.  You  presently  will  know  more. 
What  seems  to  me  plain  is  that,  since  we  seem  to  lose 
a  valuable  ally  in  the  Baroness  von  Ritz,  we  must 
make  some  offset  to  that  loss.  If  England  has  one 
woman  on  the  Columbia,  we  must  have  another  on 
the  Rio  Grande !" 


CHAPTER   XXI 

POLITICS   UNDER  COVER 

To  a  woman,  the  romances  she  makes  are  more  amusing! 
than  those  she  reads. — Theophile  Gautier. 

IT  was  curious  how  cleverly  this  austere  old  man, 
unskilled  in  the  arts  of  gallantry,  now  handled 
the  problem  to  which  he  had  addressed  him 
self,  even  though  that  meant  forecasting  the  whim 
of  yet  another  woman.    It  all  came  easily  about,  pre 
cisely  as  he  had  planned. 

It  seemed  quite  correct  for  the  daughter  of  our 
secretary  of  state  to  call  to  inquire  for  the  health  of 
the  fair  Sefiora  Yturrio,  and  to  present  the  com 
pliments  of  Madam  Calhoun,  at  that  time  not  in  the 
city  of  Washington.  Matters  went  so  smoothly  that 
I  felt  justified  in  suggesting  a  little  drive,  and 
Sefiora  Yturrio  had  no  hesitation  in  accepting.  Quite 
naturally,  our  stately  progress  finally  brought  us 
close  to  the  residence  of  Miss  Calhoun.  That  lady 
suggested  that,  since  the  day  was  warm,  it  might  be 
well  to  descend  and  see  if  we  might  not  find  a  sher 
bet  ;  all  of  which  also  seemed  quite  to  the  wish  of  the 
lady  from  Mexico.  The  ease  and  warmth  of  Mr. 

217 


218    FIFiT-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

Calhoun's  greeting  to  her  were  such  that  she  soon 
was  well  at  home  and  chatting  very  amiably.  She 
spokp  English  with  but  little  hesitancy. 

Lucrezia  Yturrio,  at  that  time  not  ill  known  in 
Washington's  foreign  colony,  was  beautiful,  in  a 
sensuous,  ripe  way.  Her  hair  was  dark,  heavily 
coiled,  and  packed  in  masses  above  an  oval  forehead. 
Her  brows  were  straight,  dark  and  delicate;  her 
teeth  white  and  strong;  her  lips  red  and  full;  her 
chin  well  curved  and  deep.  A  round  arm  and  taper 
hand  controlled  a  most  artful  fan.  She  was  garbed 
now,  somewhat  splendidly,  in  a  corded  cherry- 
colored  silk,  wore  gems  enough  to  start  a  shop,  and 
made  on  the  whole  a  pleasing  picture  of  luxury  and 
opulence.  She  spoke  in  a  most  musical  voice,  with 
eyes  sometimes  cast  modestly  down.  He  had  been  a 
poor  student  of  her  species  who  had  not  ascribed  to 
her  a  wit  of  her  own;  but  as  I  watched  her,  some 
what  apart,  I  almost  smiled  as  I  reflected  that  her 
grave  and  courteous  host  had  also  a  wit  to  match  it. 
Then  I  almost  frowned  as  I  recalled  my  own  defeat 
in  a  somewhat  similar  contest 

Mr.  Calhoun  expressed  great  surprise  and  grati 
fication  that  mere  chance  had  enabled  him  to  meet 
the  wife  of  a  gentleman  so  distinguished  in  the 
diplomatic  service  as  Senor  Yturrio.  The  Sefiora 
was  equally  gratified.  She  hoped  she  did  not  make 
intrusion  in  thus  coming.  Mr.  Calhoun  assured  her 


POLITICS    UNDER    COVER          219 

that  he  and  his  were  simple  in  their  family  life,  and 
always  delighted  to  meet  their  friends. 

"We  are  especially  glad  always  to  hear  of  our 
friends  from  the  Southwest,"  said  he,  at  last,  with  a 
slight  addition  of  formality  in  tone  and  attitude. 

At  these  words  I  saw  my  lady's  eyes  flicker.  "It 
is  fate,  Sefior,"  said  she,  again  casting  down  hei 
eyes,  and  spreading  out  her  hands  as  in  resignation, 
"fate  which  left  Texas  and  Mexico  not  always  one." 

"That  may  be,"  said  Mr.  Calhoun.  "Perhaps  fate, 
also,  that  those  of  kin  should  cling  together." 

"How  can  a  mere  woman  know?"  My  lady 
shrugged  her  very  graceful  and  beautiful  shoulders 
— somewhat  mature  shoulders  now,  but  still  beau 
tiful. 

"Dear  Sefiora,"  said  Mr.  Calhoun,  "there  are  so 
many  things  a  woman  may  not  know.  For  instance, 
how  could  she  know  if  her  husband  should  per 
chance  leave  the  legation  to  which  he  was  attached 
and  pay  a  visit  to  another  nation  ?" 

Again  the  slight  flickering  of  her  eyes,  but  again 
her  hands  were  outspread  in  protest 

"How  indeed,  Sefior?" 

"What  if  my  young  aide  here,  Mr.  Trist,  should' 
tell  you  that  he  has  seen  your  husband  some  hun 
dreds  of  miles  away  and  in  conference  with  a  lady 
supposed  to  be  somewhat  friendly  towards — " 

"Ah,  you  mean  that  baroness — !" 


220     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

So  soon  had  the  shaft  gone  home!  Her  woman's 
jealousy  had  offered  a  point  unexpectedly  weak. 
Calhoun  bowed,  without  a  smile  upon  his  face. 

"Mr.  Pakenham,  the  British  minister,  is  disposed 
to  be  friendly  to  this  same  lady.  Your  husband  and 
a  certain  officer  of  the  British  Navy  called  upon  this 
same  lady  last  week  hi  Montreal — informally.  It  is 
sometimes  unfortunate  that  plans  are  divulged.  To 
me  it  seemed  only  wise  and  fit  that  you  should  not 
let  any  of  these  little  personal  matters  make  for  us 
greater  complications  in  these  perilous  times,  i 
think  you  understand  me,  perhaps,  Sefiora  Yturrio  ?" 

She  gurgled  low  in  her  throat  at  this,  any  sort  of 
sound,  meaning  to  remain  ambiguous.  But  Calhoun 
was  merciless. 

"It  is  not  within  dignity,  Senora,  for  me  to  make 
trouble  between  a  lady  and  her  husband.  But  we 
must  have  friends  with  us  under  our  flag,  or  know 
that  they  are  not  our  friends.  You  are  welcome  in 
my  house.  Your  husband  is  welcome  in  the  house 
of  our  republic.  There  are  certain  duties,  even 
thus." 

Only  now  and  again  she  turned  upon  him  the  light 
'pf  her  splendid  eyes,  searching  him. 

"If  I  should  recall  again,  gently,  my  dear  Senora, 
the  fact  that  your  husband  was  with  that  particular 
woman — if  I  should  say  that  Mexico  has  been  found 
under  the  flag  of  England,  while  supposed  to  be 


POLITICS    UNDER    COVER          221 

under  our  flag — if  I  should  add  that  one  of  the 
representatives  of  the  Mexican  legation  had  been 
discovered  in  handing  over  to  England  certain  se 
crets  of  this  country  and  of  the  Republic  of  Texas — 
why,  then,  what  answer,  think  you,  Seriora,  Mexico/ 
would  make  to  me?" 

"But  Senor  Calhoun  does  not  mean — does  not  dare 
to  say — /J 

"I  do  dare  it;  I  do  mean  it!  I  can  tell  you  all  that 
Mexico  plans,  and  all  that  Texas  plans.  All  the 
secrets  are  out;  and  since  we  know  them,  we  purpose 
immediate  annexation  of  the  Republic  of  Texas ! 
Though  it  means  war,  Texas  shall  be  ours !  This  has 
been  forced  upon  us  by  the  perfidy  of  other  nations." 

He  looked  her  full  in  the  eye,  his  own  blue  orbs 
alight  with  resolution.  She  returned  his  gaze,  fierce 
as  a  tigress.  But  at  last  she  spread  out  her  depre 
cating  hands. 

"Senor,"  she  said,  "I  am  but  a  woman.  I  am  in 
the  Senor  Secretary's  hands.  I  am  even  in  his  hand. 
What  can  he  wish?" 

"In  no  unfair  way,  Seriora,  I  beg  you  to  under 
stand,  in  no  improper  way  are  you  in  our  hands. ' 
But  now  let  us  endeavor  to  discover  some  way  in! 
which  some  of  these  matters  may  be  composed.     In 
such  affairs,  a  small  incident  is  sometimes  magnified1 
and  taken   in   connection   with   its  possible  conse 
quences.     You  readily  may  see,  Senora,  that  did  I 


222     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

personally  seek  the  dismissal  of  your  husband,  pos~ 
sibly  even  the  recall  of  General  Almonte,  his  chief, 
that  might  be  effected  without  difficulty." 

"You  seek  war,  Senor  Secretary !  My  people  say 
that  your  armies  are  in  Texas  now,  or  will  be." 

"They  are  but  very  slightly  in  advance  of  the 
truth,  Senora,"  said  Calhoun  grimly.  "For  me,  I 
do  not  believe  in  war  when  war  can  be  averted. 
But  suppose  it  could  be  averted?  Suppose  the 
Senora  Yturrio  herself  could  avert  it?  Suppose  the 
Senora  could  remain  here  still,  in  this  city  which  she 
so  much  admires  ?  A  lady  of  so  distinguished  beauty 
and  charm  is  valuable  in  our  society  here." 

He  bowed  to  her  with  stately  grace.  If  there  was 
mockery  in  his  tone,  she  could  not  catch  it;  nor  -did 
her  searching  eyes  read  his  meaning. 

"See,"  he  resumed,  "alone,  I  am  helpless  in  this 
situation.  If  my  government  is  offended,  I  can  not 
stop  the  course  of  events.  I  am  not  the  Senate ;  I  am 
simply  an  officer  in  our  administration — a  very 
humble  officer  of  his  Excellency  our  president,  Mr. 
Tyler." 

My  lady  broke  out  in  a  peal  of  low,  rippling 
laughter,  her  white  teeth  gleaming.  It  was,  after 
^all,  somewhat  difficult  to  trifle  with  one  who  had 
been  trained  in  intrigue  all  her  life. 

Calhoun  laughed  now  in  his  own  quiet  way.  "We 
shall  do  better  if  we  deal  entirely  Irankly,  Senora/' 


POLITICS    UNDER    COVER          223 

said  he.  "Let  us  then  waste  no  time.  Frankly,  then, 
it  would  seem  that,  now  the  Baroness  von  Ritz  is  off 
the  scene,  the  Seiiora  Yturrio  would  have  all  the 
oetter  title  and  opportunity  in  the  affections  of — 
well,  let  us  say,  her  own  husband !" 

She  bent  toward  him  now,  her  lips  open  in  a  slow 
smile,  all  her  subtle  and  dangerous  beauty  unmask 
ing  its  batteries.  The  impression  she  conveyed  was 
that  of  warmth  and  of  spotted  shadows  such  as  play 
upon  the  leopard's  back,  such  as  mark  the  wing  of 
the  butterfly,  the  petal  of  some  flower  born  in  a  land 
of  heat  and  passion.  But  Calhoun  regarded  her 
calmly,  his  finger  tips  together,  arid  spoke  as  delib 
erately  as  though  communing  with  himself.  "It  is 
but  one  thing,  one  very  little  thing." 

"And  what  is  that,  Senor?"  she  asked  at  length. 

"The  signature  of  Senor  Van  Zandt,  attache  for 
Texas,  on  this  memorandum  of  treaty  betv/een  the 
United  States  and  Texas." 

Bowing,  he  presented  to  her  the  document  to 
which  he  had  earlier  directed  my  own  attention. 
JWe  are  well  advised  that  Senor  Van  Zandt  is 
trafficking  this  very  hour  with  England  as  against 
us,"  he  explained.  "We  ask  the  gracious  assistance 
of  Senora  Yturrio.  In  return  we  promise  her— - 
silence!" 

"I  can  not — it  is  impossible!"  she  exclaimed,  as 
she  glanced  at  the  pages.  "It  is  our  ruin — !" 


224    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"No,  Senora,"  said  Calhoun  sternly;  "it  means 
annexation  of  Texas  to  the  United  States.  But  that 
is  not  your  ruin.  It  is  your  salvation.  Your  coun 
try  well  may  doubt  England,  even  England  bearing 
gifts!" 

1    "I  have  no  control  over  Senor  Van  Zandt — he  is 
the  enemy  of  my  country !"  she  began. 

Calhoun  now  fixed  upon  her  the  full  cold  blue 
blaze  of  his  singularly  penetrating  eyes.  "No, 
Senora,"  he  said  sternly;  "but  you  have  access  to 
my  friend  Mr.  Polk,  and  Mr.  Polk  is  the  friend  of 
Mr.  Jackson,  and  they  two  are  friends  of  Mr.  Van 
Zandt;  and  Texas  supposes  that  these  two,  although 
they  do  not  represent  precisely  my  own  beliefs  in 
politics,  are  for  the  annexation  of  Texas,  not  to 
England,  but  to  America.  There  is  good  chance 
Mr.  Polk  may  be  president.  If  you  do  not  use  your 
personal  influence  with  him,  he  may  consult  politics 
and  not  you,  and  so  declare  war  against  Mexico. 
That  war  would  cost  you  Texas,  and  much  more  as 
well.  Now,  to  avert  that  war,  do  you  not  think  that 
perhaps  you  can  ask  Mr.  Polk  to  say  to  Mr.  Van 
Zandt  that  his  signature  on  this  little  treaty  would 
end  all  such  questions  simply,  immediately,  and  to 
the  best  benefit  of  Mexico,  Texas  and  the  United 
States?  Treason?  Why,  Sefiora,  'twould  be  pre 
venting  treason !" 

Her  face  was  half  hidden  by  her  fan,  and  her 


POLITICS    UNDER   COVER          225 

eyes,  covered  by  their  deep  lids,  gave  no  sign  of  her 
thoughts.  The  same  cold  voice  went  on : 

"You  might,  for  instance,  tell  Mr.  Polk,  which  is 
to  say  Mr.  Van  Zandt,  that  if  his  name  goes  on  this 
little  treaty  for  Texas,  nothing  will  be  said  to  Texas 
regarding  his  proposal  to  give  Texas  over  to  Eng 
land.  It  might  not  be  safe  for  that  little  fact  gen 
erally  to  be  known  in  Texas  as  it  is  known  to  me. 
We  will  keep  it  secret.  You  might  ask  Mr.  Van 
Zandt  if  he  would  value  a  seat  in  the  Senate  of  these 
United  States,  rather  than  a  lynching  rope!  So 
much  do  I  value  your  honorable  acquaintance  with 
Mr.  Polk  and  with  Mr.  Van  Zandt,  my  dear  lady, 
that  I  do  not  go  to  the  latter  and  demand  his  signa 
ture  in  the  name  of  his  republic — no,  I  merely  sug 
gest  to  you  that  did  you  take  this  little  treaty  for  a 
day,  and  presently  return  it  to  me  with  his  signature 
attached,  I  should  feel  so  deeply  gratified  that  I 
should  not  ask  you  by  what  means  you  had  attained 
this  most  desirable  result !  And  I  should  hope  that 
if  you  could  not  win  back  the  affections  of  a  certain 
gentleman,  at  least  you  might  win  your  own  evening 
of  the  scales  with  him/' 

Her  face  colored  darkly.  In  a  flash  she  saw  the 
covert  allusion  to  the  faithless  Pakenham.  Here  was 
the  chance  to  cut  him  to  the  soul.  She  could  cost 
England  Texas!  Revenge  made  its  swift  appeal  to 
her  savage  heart.  Revenge  and  jealousy,  handled 


226    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

coolly,  mercilessly  as  weapons — those  cost  England 
Texas ! 

She  sat,  her  fan  tight  at  her  white  teeth.  "It 
would  be  death  to  me  if  it  were  known,"  she  said. 
But  still  she  pondered,  her  eye  alight  with  sombet 
fire,  her  dark  cheek  red  in  a  woman's  anger. 

"But  it  never  will  be  known,  my  dear  lady.  These 
things,  however,  must  be  concluded  swiftly.  We 
have  not  time  to  wait.  Let  us  not  argue  over  the 
unhappy  business.  Let  me  think  of  Mexico  as  our 
sister  republic  and  our  friend !" 

"And  suppose  I  shall  not  do  this  that  you  ask, 
Sefior?" 

"That,  my  dear  lady,  I  do  not  suppose!" 

"You  threaten,  Sefior  Secretary  ?" 

"On  the  contrary,  I  implore!  I  ask  you  not  to  be 
treasonable  to  any,  but  to  be  our  ally,  our  friend,  in 
what  in  my  soul  I  believe  a  great  good  for  the  peo 
ples  of  the  world.  Without  us,  Texas  will  be  the 
prey  of  England.  With  us,  she  will  be  working  out 
her  destiny.  In  our  graveyard  of  state  there  are 
many  secrets  of  which  the  public  never  knows.  Here 
shall  be  one,  though  your  heart  shall  exult  in  its 
possession.  Dear  lady,  may  we  not  conspire  to 
gether — for  the  ultimate  good  of  three  republics, 
making  of  them  two  noble  ones,  later  to  dwell  in 
amity  ?  Shall  we  not  hope  to  see  all  this  continent 


POLITICS    UNDER    COVER          227 

swept  free  of  monarchy,  held  jree,  for  the  peoples  of 
the  world?'' 

For  an  instant,  no  more,  she  sat  and  pondered. 
Suddenly  she  bestowed  upon  him  a  smile  whose  bril 
liance  might  have  turned  the  head  of  another  man. 
Rising,  she  swept  him  a  curtsey  whose  grace  I  have 
not  seen  surpassed. 

In  return,  Mr.  Calhoun  bowed  to  her  with  dig 
nity  and  ease,  and,  lifting  her  hand,  pressed  it  to 
his  lips.  Then,  offering  her  an  arm,  he  led  her  to 
his  carriage.  I  could  scarce  believe  my  eyes  and 
ears  that  so  much,  and  of  so  much  importance,  had 
thus  so  easily  been  accomplished,  where  all  had 
seemed  so  near  to  the  impossible. 

When  last  I  saw  my  chief  that  day  he  was  sunk  in 
his  chair,  white  to  the  lips,  his  long  hands  trembling, 
fatigue  written  all  over  his  face  and  form;  but  a 
smile  still  was  on  his  grim  mouth.  "Nicholas,"  said 
he,  "had  I  fewer  politicians  and  more  women  behind 
me,  we  should  have  Texas  to  the  Rio  Grande,  and 
Oregon  up  to  Russia,  and  all  without  a  war!" 


CHAPTER   XXII 

BUT  YET  A   WOMAN 

Woman  turns  every  man  the  wrong  side  out, 
And  never  gives  to  truth  and  virtue  thai 
Which  simpleness  and  merit  purchaseth. 

— Shakespeare. 


M 


Y  chief  played  his  game  of  chess  coldly, 
methodically,  and  with  skill;  yet  a  game 
of  chess  is  not  always  of  interest  to  the 
spectator  who  does  not  know  every  move.  Least  of 
all  does  it  interest  one  who  feels  himself  but  a  pawn 
piece  on  the  board  ,and  part  of  a  plan  in  whose  direc 
tion  he  has  nothing  to  say.  In  truth,  I  was  weary. 
Not  even  the  contemplation  of  the  hazardous  jour 
ney  to  Oregon  served  to  stir  me.  I  traveled  wearily 
again  and  again  my  circle  of  personal  despair. 

On  the  day  following  my  last  interview  with  Mr. 
Calhoun,  I  had  agreed  to  take  my  old  friend  Doctor 
von  Rittenhofen  upon  a  short  journey  among  the 
,points  of  interest  of  our  city,  in  order  to  acquaint 
him  somewhat  with  our  governmental  machinery 
and  to  put  him  in  touch  with  some  of  the  sources  of 
information  to  which  he  would  need  to  refer  in  the 
work  upon  which  he  was  now  engaged.  We  had 

228 


BUT   YET   A   WOMAtf  229 

spent  a  couple  of  hours  together,  and  were  passing 
across  to  the  capitol,  with  the  intent  of  looking  in 
upon  the  deliberations  of  the  houses  of  Congress, 
when  all  at  once,  as  we  crossed  the  corridor,  I  felt 
him  touch  my  arm. 

"Did  you  see  that  young  lady?"  he  asked  of  me, 
"She  looked  at  you,  yess?" 

I  was  in  the  act  of  turning,  even  as  he  spoke. 
Certainly  had  I  been  alone  I  would  have  seen  Elisa 
beth,  would  have  known  that  she  was  there. 

It  was  Elisabeth,  alone,  and  hurrying  away  !  Al- 
jeady  she  was  approaching  the  first  stair.  In  a 
.moment  she  would  be  gone.  I  sprang  after  her  by 
instinct,  without  plan,  clear  in  my  mind  only  that  she 
was  going,  and  with  her  all  the  light  of  the  world ; 
that  she  was  going,  and  that  she  was  beautiful,  ador 
able;  that  she  was  going,  and  that  she  was  Elisabeth  ! 

As  I  took  a  few  rapid  steps  toward  her,  I  had  full 
opportunity  to  see  that  no  grief  had  preyed  upon  her 
comeliness,  nor  had  concealment  fed  upon  her 
damask  cheek.  Almost  with  some  resentment  I  saw 
that  she  had  never  seemed  more  beautiful  than  on 
this  morning.  The  costume  of  those  days  was  try 
ing  to  any  but  a  beautiful  woman ;  yet  Elisabeth  had1 
a  way  of  avoiding  extremes  which  did  not  appeal  to' 
her  individual  taste.  Her  frock  now  was  all  in 
pink,  as  became  the  gentle  spring,  and  the  bunch  of 
silvery  ribbons  which  fluttered  at  her  belt  had  quite 


230    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

the  agreeing  shade  to  finish  in  perfection  the  cool, 
sweet  picture  that  she  made.  Her  sleeves  were 
puffed  widely,  and  for  the  lower  arm  were  opened 
just  sufficiently.  She  carried  a  small  white  parasol, 
with  pinked  edges,  and  her  silken  mitts,  light  and 
dainty,  matched  the  clear  whiteness  of  her  arms. 
Her  face,  turned  away  from  me,  was  shaded  by  a 
wide  round  bonnet,  not  quite  so  painfully  plain  as 
the  scooplike  affair  of  the  time,  but  with  a  drooping 
brim  from  which  depended  a  slight  frilling  of  sheer 
lace.  Her  smooth  brown  hair  was  drawn  primly 
down  across  her  ears,  as  was  the  fashion  of  the  day, 
And  from  the  masses  piled  under  the  bonnet  brim 
there  fell  down  a  curl,  round  as  though  made  that 
moment,  and  not  yet  limp  from  the  damp  heat  of 
Washington.  Fresh  and  dainty  and  restful  as  a 
picture  done  on  Dresden,  yet  strong,  fresh,  fully 
competent,  Elisabeth  walked  as  having  full  right  in 
the  world  and  accepting  as  her  due  such  admiration 
as  might  be  offered.  If  she  had  ever  known  a  care, 
she  did  not  show  it;  and,  I  say,  this  made  me  feel 
resentment  It  was  her  proper  business  to  appear 
miserable. 

If  she  indeed  resembled  a  rare  piece  of  flawless 
Dresden  on  this  morning,  she  was  as  cold,  her  fea 
tures  were  as  unmarked  by  any  human  pity.  Ah ! 
so  different  an  Elisabeth,  this,  from  the  one  I  had 
last  seen  at  the  East  Room,  with  throat  fluttering^ 


BUT   YET   A   WOMAN  231 

and  cheeks  far  warmer  than  this  cool  rose  pink. 
But,  changed  or  not,  the  full  sight  of  her  came  aa 
the  sudden  influence  of  some  powerful  drug,  blot 
ting  out  consciousness  of  other  things.  I  could  no 
more  have  refrained  from  approaching  her  than  I 
could  have  cast  away  my  own  natural  self  and  form. 
Just  as  she  reached  the  top  of  the  broad  marble 
stairs,  I  spoke. 

"Elisabeth!" 

Seeing  that  there  was  no  escape,  she  paused  now 
and  turned  toward  me.  I  have  never  seen  a  glance 
like  hers.  Say  not  there  is  no  Language  of  the  eyes, 
no  speech  in  the  composure  of  the  features.  Yet 
such  is  the  Sphinx  power  given  to  woman,  that  now 
I  saw,  as  though  it  were  a  thing  tangible,  a  veil 
drawn  across  her  eyes,  across  her  face,  between  her 
soul  and  mine. 

Elisabeth  drew  herself  up  straight,  her  chin  high, 
her  eyes  level,  her  lips  just  parted  for  a  faint  saluta 
tion  in  the  conventions  of  the  morning. 

"How  do  you  do?"  she  remarked.  Her  voice  was 
all  cool  white  enamel.  Then  that  veil  dropped  down 
between  us. 

She  was  there  somewhere,  but  I  could  not  see  her 
clearly  now.  It  was  not  her  voice.  I  took  her  hand, 
yes;  but  it  had  now  none  of  answering  clasp.  The 
flush  was  on  her  cheek  no  more.  Cool,  pale,  sweet, 
all  white  now,  armed  cap-a-pie  with  indifference, 


232    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

she  looked  at  me  as  formally  as  though  I  were  a  re« 
mote  acquaintance.  Then  she  would  have  passed.. 

"Elisabeth,"  I  began ;  "I  am  just  back.  I  have  not 
had  time — I  have  had  no  leave  from  you  to  come  to 
see  you — to  ask  you — to  explain — " 

"Explain?"  she  said  evenly. 

"But  surely  you  can  not  believe  that  I — " 

"I  only  believe  what  seems  credible,  Mr.  Trist." 

"But  you  promised — that  very  morning  you 
agreed —  Were  you  out  of  your  mind,  that — " 

"I  was  out  of  my  mind  that  morning — but  not  that 
evening." 

Now  she  was  grande  demoiselle,  patrician,  supe 
rior.  Suddenly  I  became  conscious  of  the  dullness 
of  my  own  garb.  I  cast  a  quick  glance  over  my 
figure,  to  see  whether  it  had  not  shrunken. 

"But  that  is  not  it,  Elisabeth — a  girl  may  not  al 
low  a  man  so  much  as  you  promised  me,  and  then 
forget  that  promise  in  a  day.  It  was  a  promise  be 
tween  us.  You  agreed  that  I  should  come;  I  did 
come.  You  had  given  your  word.  I  say,  was  that  the 
way  to  treat  me,  coming  as  I  did  ?" 

"I   found  it  possible,"  said  she.     "But,  if  you 
please,  I  must  go.    I  beg  your  pardon,  but  my  Aunt 
Betty  is  waiting  with  the  carriage." 
,      "Why,  damn  Aunt  Betty!"  I  exclaimed.    "You 
shall  not  go !  See,  look  here !" 

I  pulled  from  my  pocket  the  little  ring  which  I 


BUT   YET   A   WOMAN  233 

had  had  with  me  that  night  when  I  drove  out  to 
Elmhurst  in  my  carriage,  the  one  with  the  single 
gem  which  I  had  obtained  hurriedly  that  afternoon, 
having  never  before  that  day  had  the  right  to  do  so. 
In  another  pocket  I  found  the  plain  gold  one  which 
should  have  gone  with  the  gem  ring  that  same  even 
ing.  My  hand  trembled  as  I  held  these  out  to  her. 

"I  prove  to  you  what  I  meant  Here!  I  had  no 
time !  Why,  Elisabeth,  I  was  hurrying — I  was  mad ! 
— I  had  a  right  to  offer  you  these  things.  I  have 
still  the  right  to  ask  you  why  you  did  not  take  them  ? 
Will  you  not  take  them  now?'0 

She  put  my  hand  away  from  her  gently.  "Keep 
them,"  she  said,  "for  the  owner  of  that  other  wed 
ding  gift — the  one  which  I  received." 

Now  I  broke  out.  "Good  God !  How  can  I  be  held 
to  blame  for  the  act  of  a  drunken  friend  ?  You  know 
Jack  Dandridge  as  well  as  I  do  myself.  I  cautioned 
him — I  was  not  responsible  for  his  condition." 

"It  was  not  that  decided  me." 

"You  could  not  believe  it  was  /  who  sent  you  that 
accursed  shoe  which  belonged  to  another  woman." 

"He  said  it  came  from  you.  Where  did  you  get  it 
then?" 

Now,  as  readily  may  be  seen,  I  was  obliged  again 
to  hesitate.  There  were  good  reasons  to  keep  my 
lips  sealed.  I  flushed.  The  red  of  confusion  which 
came  to  my  cheek  was  matched  by  that  of  indigna- 


234    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

tion  in  her  own.  I  could  not  tell  her,  and  she  could 
not  understand,  that  my  work  for  Mr.  Calhoun  with 
that  other  woman  was  work  for  America,  and  so  as 
sacred  and  as  secret  as  my  own  love  for  her.  Inno 
cent,  I  still  seemed  guilty. 

"So,  then,  you  do  not  say  ?    I  do  not  ask  you." 

"I  do  not  deny  it" 

"You  do  not  care  to  tell  me  where  you  got  it." 

"No,"  said  I ;  "I  will  not  tell  you  where  I  got  it" 

"Why?" 

"Because  that  would  involve  another  woman." 

"Involve  another  woman?  Do  you  think,  then, 
that  on  this  one  day  of  her  life,  a  girl  likes  to  think 
of  her — her  lover — as  involved  with  any  other 
woman  ?  Ah,  you  made  me  begin  to  think.  I  could 
not  help  the  chill  that  came  on  my  heart  Marry 
you  ? — I  could  not !  I  never  could,  now." 

"Yet  you  had  decided — you  had  told  me — it  was 
agreed — " 

"I  had  decided  on  facts  as  I  thought  they  were. 
Other  facts  came  before  you  arrived.  Sir,  you  do  me 
a  very  great  compliment." 

"But  you  loved  me  once,"  I  said  banally. 

"I  do  not  consider  it  fair  to  mention  that  now." 

"I  never  loved  that  other  woman.  I  had  nevef 
$een  her  more  than  once.  You  do  not  know  her." 

"Ah,  is  that  it?  Perhaps  I  could  tell  you  some* 
thing  of  one  Helena  von  Ritz.  Is  it  not  so  ?" 


BUT   YET   A   WOMAN  235 

"Yes,  that  was  the  property  of  Helena  von  Ritz," 
I  told  her,  looking  her  fairly  in  the  eye, 

"Kind  of  you,  indeed,  to  involve  me,  as  you  say, 
with  a  lady  of  her  precedents !" 

Now  her  color  was  up  full,  and  her  words  came 
crisply.  Had  I  had  adequate  knowledge  of  women, 
I  could  have  urged  her  on  then,  and  brought  on  a 
full-fledged  quarrel.  Strategically,  that  must  have 
been  a  far  happier  condition  than  mere  indifference 
on  her  part.  But  I  did  not  know ;  and  my  accursed 
love  of  fairness  blinded  me, 

"I  hardly  think  any  one  is  quite  just  to  that  lady," 
said  I  slowly. 

"Except  Mr.  Nicholas  Trist!  A  beautiful  and  ac 
complished  lady,  I  doubt  not,  in  his  mind." 

"Yes,  all  of  that,  I  doubt  not" 

"And  quite  kind  with  her  little  gifts." 

"Elisabeth,  I  can  not  well  explain  all  that  to  you. 
I  can  not,  on  my  honor." 

"Do  not!"  she  cried,  putting  out  her  hand  as 
though  in  alarm.  "Do  not  invoke  your  honor !" 

She  looked  at  me  again.  I  have  never  seen  a  look 
like  hers.  She  had  been  calm,  cold,  and  again  in 
dignant,  all  in  a  moment's  time.  That  expression 
which  now  showed  on  her  face  was  one  yet  worse 
for  me. 

Still  I  would  not  accept  my  dismissal,  but  went  on 
".tubbornly :  "But  may  I  not  see  your  father  and  have 


236    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

my  chance  again  ?    I  can  not  let  it  go  this  way.    It  is 
the  ruin  of  my  life." 

But  now  she  was  advancing,  dropping  down  a  step 
at  a  time,  and  her  face  was  turned  straight  ahead. 
The  pink  of  her  gown  was  matched  by  the  pink  of 
her  cheeks.  I  saw  the  little  working  of  the  white t 
throat  wherein  some  sobs  seemed  stifling.  And  so 
she  went  away  and  left  me. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

SUCCESS  IN  SILK 

As  things  are,  I  think  women  are  generally  better  creatures 
than  men. — S.  T.  Coleridge. 

IT  WAS  a  part  of  my  duties,  when  in  Washing 
ton,  to  assist  my  chief  in  his  personal  and  offi 
cial  correspondence,  which  necessarily  was 
very  heavy.  This  work  we  customarily  began  about 
nine  of  the  morning.  On  the  following  day  I  was  on 
hand  earlier  than  usual.  I  was  done  with  Washing 
ton  now,  done  with  everything,  eager  only  to  be  off 
on  the  far  trails  once  more.  But  I  almost  forgot  my 
own  griefs  when  I  saw  my  chief.  When  I  found  him, 
already  astir  in  his  office,  his  face  was  strangely  wan 
and  thin,  his  hands  bloodless.  Over  him  hung  an  air 
of  utter  weariness;  yet,  shame  to  my  own  despair, 
energy  showed  in  .all  his  actions.  Resolution  was 
written  on  his  face.  He  greeted  me  with  a  smile 
which  strangely  lighted  his  grim  face. 

"We  have  good  news  of  some  kind  this  morning, 
sir?"  I  inquired. 

In  answer,  he  motioned  me  to  a  document  which 
lay  open  upon  his  table.  It  was  familiar  enough  ta 

237 


238     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

me.  I  glanced  at  the  bottom.  There  were  two  sig 
natures  ! 

"Texas  agrees!"  I  exclaimed.  "The  Dona  Lu 
cre  zia  has  won  Van  Zandt's  signature!" 

I  looked  at  him.  His  own  eyes  were  swimming 
wet!  This,  then,  was  that  man  of  whom  it  is  only 
remembered  that  he  was  a  pro-slavery  champion. 

"It  will  be  a  great  country,"  said  he  at  last.  "This 
once  done,  I  shall  feel  that,  after  all,  I  have  not  lived 
wholly  in  vain." 

"But  the  difficulties!  Suppose  Van  Zandt  proves 
traitorous  to  us  ?" 

"He  dare  not  Texas  may  know  that  he  bar 
gained  with  England,  but  he  dare  not  traffic  with 
Mexico  and  let  that  be  known.  He  would  not  live  a 
day." 

"But  perhaps  the  Dona  Lucrezia  herself  might 
some  time  prove  fickle." 

"She  dare  not!  She  never  will.  She  will  enjoy 
in  secret  her  revenge  on  perfidious  Albion,  which  is 
to  say,  perfidious  Pakenham.  Her  nature  is  abso 
lutely  different  from  that  of  the  Baroness  von  Ritz. 
The  Dona  Lucrezia  dreams  of  the  torch  of  love,  not 
the  torch  of  principle!" 

"The  public  might  not  approve,  Mr.  Calhoun ;  but 
at  least  there  were  advantages  in  this  sort  of  aids !" 

"We  are  obliged  to  find  such  help  as  we  can.  The 
public  is  not  always  able  to  tell  which  was  plot  and 


SUCCESS    IN    SILK  239 

which  counterplot  in  the  accomplishment  of  some  in 
tricate  things.  The  result  excuses  all.  It  was  writ 
ten  that  Texas  should  come  to  this  country.  Now  for 
Oregon !  It  grows,  this  idea  of  democracy !" 

"At  least,  sir,  you  will  have  done  your  part.  Only 
now— " 

"Only  what,  then  ?" 

"We  are  certain  to  encounter  opposition.  The  Sen 
ate  may  not  ratify  this  Texas  treaty." 

"The  Senate  will  not  ratify,"  said  he.  "I  am  per 
fectly  well  advised  of  how  the  vote  will  be  when  this 
treaty  comes  before  it  for  ratification.  We  will  be 
beaten,  two  to  one !" 

"Then,  does  that  not  end  it?" 

"End  it?  No!  There  are  always  other  ways.  If 
the  people  of  this  country  wish  Texas  to  belong  to 
our  flag,  she  will  so  belong.  It  is  as  good  as  done 
to-day.  Never  look  at  the  obstacles ;  look  at  the  goal ! 
It  was  this  intrigue  of  Van  Zandt's  which  stood  in 
our  way.  By  playing  one  intrigue  against  another, 
we  have  won  thus  far.  We  must  go  on  winning !" 

He  paced  up  and  down  the  room,  one  hand  smit 
ing  the  other.  "Let  England  whistle  now !"  he  ex 
claimed  exultantly.  "We  shall  annex  Texas,  in  full 
view,  indeed,  of  all  possible  consequences.  There  can 
be  no  consequences,  for  England  has  no  excuse  left 
for  war  over  Texas.  I  only  wish  the  situation  were 
as  clear  for  Oregon." 


240     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"There'll  be  bad  news  for  our  friend  Senor 
Yturrio  when  he  gets  back  to  his  own  legation !"  I 
ventured. 

"Let  him  then  face  that  day  when  Mexico  shall 
see  fit  to  look  to  us  for  aid  and  counsel.  We  will 
build  a  mighty  country  here,  on  this  continent!" 

"Mr.  Pakenham  is  accredited  to  have  certain  in 
fluence  in  our  Senate." 

"Yes.  We  have  his  influence  exactly  weighed. 
Yet  I  rejoice  in  at  least  one  thing — one  of  his  best 
allies  is  not  here." 

"You  mean  Senor  Yturrio?" 

"I  mean  the  Baroness  von  Ritz.  And  now  comes 
on  that  next  nominating  convention,  at  Baltimore." 

"What  will  it  do  ?"  I  hesitated. 

"God  knows.  For  me,  I  have  no  party.  I  am 
alone !  I  have  but  few  friends  in  all  the  world" — he 
smiled  now — "you,  my  boy,  as  I  said,  and  Doctor 
Ward  and  a  few  women,  all  of  whom  hate  each 
other." 

I  remained  silent  at  this  shot,  which  came  home 
to  me;  but  he  smiled,  still  grimly,  shaking  his  headv 
"Rustle  of  silk,  my  boy,  rustle  of  silk — it  is  over  all 
our  maps.  But  we  shall  make  these  maps!  Time 
shall  bear  me  witness." 

"Then  I  may  start  soon  for  Oregon?"  I  demanded 

"You  shall  start  to-morrow,"  he  answered. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

THE  WHOA-HAW  TRAIL 

There  are  no  pleasures  where  women  are  not. 

^-Marie  de  . 

HOW  shall  I  tell  of  those  stirring  times  it\ 
such  way  that  readers  who  live  in  later  and 
different  days  may  catch  in  full  their  fla 
vor?  How  shall  I  write  now  so  that  at  a  later  time 
men  may  read  of  the  way  America  was  taken,  may 
see  what  America  then  was  and  now  is,  and  what  yet, 
please  God !  it  may  be?  How  shall  be  set  down  that 
keen  zest  of  a  nation's  youth,  full  of  ambition  and 
daring,  full  of  contempt  for  obstacles,  full  of  a  vast 
and  splendid  hope?  How  shall  be  made  plain  also 
that  other  and  stronger  thing  which  so  many  of 
those  days  have  mentioned  to  me,  half  in  reticence — 
that  feeling  that,  after  all,  this  fever  of  the  blood, 
this  imperious  insistence  upon  new  lands,  had  under 
it  something  more  than  human  selfishness  ? 

I  say  I  wish  that  some  tongue  or  brush  or  pen 
might  tell  the  story  of  our  people  at  that  time.  Once 
I  saw  it  in  part  told  in  color  and  line,  in  a  painting 
done  by  a  master  hand,  almost  one  fit  to  record  the 

241 


242     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

spirit  of  that  day,  although  it  wrought  in  this  in 
stance  with  another  and  yet  earlier  time.  In  this 
old  canvas,  depicting  an  early  Teutonic  tribal  wan 
dering,  appeared  some  scores  of  human  figures,  men 
and  women  half  savage  in  their  look,  clad  in  skins, 
with  fillets  of  hide  for  head  covering;  men  whose 
beards  were  strong  and  large,  whose  limbs,  wrapped 
loose  in  hides,  were  strong  and  large;  women,  strong 
and  large,  who  bore  burdens  on  their  backs.  Yet  in 
the  faces  of  all  these  there  shone,  not  savagery  alone, 
but  intelligence  and  resolution.  With  them  were 
flocks  and  herds  and  beasts  of  burden  and  carts  of 
rude  build;  and  beside  these  traveled  children. 
There  were  young  and  old  men  and  women,  and 
some  were  gaunt  and  weary,  but  most  were  bold  and 
strong.  There  were  weapons  for  all,  and  rude  im 
plements,  as  well,  of  industry.  In  the  faces  of  all 
there  was  visible  the  spirit  of  their  yellow-bearded 
leader,  who  made  the  center  of  the  picture's  fore 
ground. 

I  saw  the  soul  of  that  canvas — a  splendid  resolu 
tion — a  look  forward,  a  purpose,  an  aim  to  be  at 
tained  at  no  counting  of  cost.  I  say,  as  I  gazed  at 
that  canvas,  I  saw  in  it  the  columns  of  my  own  peo 
ple  moving  westward  across  the  land,  fierce-eyed, 
fearless,  doubting  nothing,  fearing  nothing.  That 
was  the  genius  of  America  when  I  myself  was 
young.  I  believe  it  still  to  be  the  spirit  of  a  tri« 


THE   WHOA-HAW   TRAIL  243 

umphant  democracy,  knowing  its  own,  taking  its 
own,  holding  its  own.  They  travel  yet,  the  daunt 
less  figures  of  that  earlier  day.  Let  them  not  de- 
ipair.  No  imaginary  line  will  ever  hold  them  back, 
ao  mandate  of  any  monarch  ever  can  restrain  them. 

In  our  own  caravans,  now  pressing  on  for  the 
general  movement  west  of  the  Missouri,  there  was 
material  for  a  hundred  canvases  like  yonder  one, 
and  yet  more  vast.  The  world  of  our  great  western 
country  was  then  still  before  us.  A  stern  and  warlike 
people  was  resolved  to  hold  it  and  increase  it  Of 
these  west-bound  I  now  was  one.  I  felt  the  joy  of 
that  thought  I  was  going  West ! 

At  this  time,  the  new  railroad  from  Baltimore  ex 
tended  no  farther  westward  than  Cumberland,  yet 
it  served  to  carry  one  well  toward  the  Ohio  River  at 
Pittsburg;  whence,  down  the  Ohio  and  up  the  Mis 
souri  to  Leavenworth,  my  journey  was  to  be  made 
by  steamboats.  In  this  prosaic  travel,  the  days 
passed  monotonously ;  but  at  length  I  found  myself 
upon  that  frontier  which  then  marked  the  western 
edge  of  our  accepted  domain,  and  the  eastern  ex 
tremity  of  the  Oregon  Trail. 

If  I  can  not  bring  to  the  mind  of  one  living  to-day 
the  full  picture  of  those  days  when  this  country  was 
not  yet  all  ours,  and  can  not  restore  to  the  compre 
hension  of  those  who  never  were  concerned  with  that 
life  tke  picture  of  that  great  highway,  greatest  path 


244     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

of  all  the  world,  which  led  across  our  unsettled  coun 
tries,  that  .ancient  trail  at  least  may  be  a  memory.  It 
is  not  even  yet  wiped  from  the  surface  of  the  earth. 
It  still  remains  in  part,  marked  now  no  longer  by 
the  rotting  head-boards  of  its  graves,  by  the  bones  of  ( 
the  perished  ones  which  once  traveled  it;  but  now  by 
its  ribands  cut  through  the  turf,  and  lined  by  nod 
ding  prairie  flowers. 

The  old  trail  to  Oregon  was  laid  out  by  no  gov 
ernment,  .arranged  by  no  engineer,  planned  by  no 
surveyor,  supported  by  no  appropriation.  It  sprang, 
a  road  already  created,  from  the  earth  itself,  cover 
ing  two  thousand  miles  of  our  country.  Why?  Be 
cause  there  was  need  for  that  country  to  be  covered 
by  such  a  trail  at  such  a  time.  Because  we  needed 
Oregon.  Because  a  stalwart  and  clear-eyed  democ 
racy  needs  America  and  will  have  it.  That  was  the 
trail  over  which  our  people  outran  their  leaders. 
If  our  leaders  trifle  again,  once  again  we  shall  out 
run  them. 

There  were  at  this  date  but  four  places  of  human 
residence  in  all  the  two  thousand  miles  of  this  trailr 
yet  recent  as  had  been  the  first  hoofs  and  wheels  to 
mark  it,  it  was  even  then  a  distinct  and  unmistakable 
path.  The  earth  has  never  had  nor  again  can  have 
its  like.  If  it  was  a  path  of  destiny,  if  it  was  a  road 
of  hope  and  confidence,  Oo  was  it  a  road  of  misery 
and  suffering  and  sacrifice;  for  thus  has  the  democ- 


THE    WHOA-HAW   TRAIL  245 

racy  always  gained  its  difficult  and  lasting  victories. 
I  think  that  it  was  there,  somewhere,  on  the  old  road 
to  Oregon,  sometime  in  the  silent  watches  of  the 
prairie  or  the  mountain  night,  that  there  was  fought 
out  the  battle  of  the  Old  World  and  the  New,  the, 
battle  between  oppressors  and  those  who  declared, 
they  no  longer  would  be  oppressed. 

Providentially  for  us,  an  ignorance  equal  to  that 
of  our  leaders  existed  in  Great  Britain.  For  us  who 
waited  on  the  banks  of  the  Missouri,  all  this  igno 
rance  was  matter  of  indifference.  Our  men  got  their 
beliefs  from  no  leaders,  political  or  editorial,  at 
home  or  abroad.  They  waited  only  for  the  grass  to 
come. 

Now  at  last  the  grass  did  begin  to  grow  upon  the 
eastern  edge  of  the  great  Plains ;  and  so  I  saw  begin 
that  vast  and  splendid  movement  across  our  conti 
nent  which  in  comparison  dwarfs  all  the  great  people 
movements  of  the  earth.  Xenophon's  March  of  the 
Ten  Thousand  pales  beside  this  of  ten  thousand 
thousands.  The  movements  of  the  Goths  and  Huns, 
the  Vandals,  the  Cimri — in  a  way,  they  had  a  like 
significance  with  this,  but  in  results  those  migration* 
did  far  less  in  the  history  of  the  world;  did  less  to 
prove  the  purpose  of  the  world. 

I  watched  the  forming  of  our  caravan,  and  I  saw 
again  that  canvas  which  I  have  mentioned,  that  pic 
ture  of  the  savages  who  traveled  a  thousand  years 


246    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

before  Christ  was  born.  Our  picture  was  the  vaster, 
the  more  splendid,  the  more  enduring.  Here  were 
savages  born  of  gentle  folk  in  part,  who  never  yet 
had  known  repulse.  They  marched  with  flocks  and 
herds  and  implements  of  husbandry.  In  their  faces 
shone  a  light  not  less  fierce  than  that  which  ani 
mated  the  dwellers  of  the  old  Teutonic  forests,  but  a 
light  clearer  and  more  intelligent.  Here  was  the  de 
termined  spirit  of  progress,  here  was  the  agreed  in 
sistence  upon  an  equal  opportunity!  Ah !  it  was  a 
great  and  splendid  canvas  which  might  have  been 
painted  there  on  our  Plains — the  caravans  west 
bound  with  the  greening  grass  of  spring — that  he- 
gira  of  Americans  whose  unheard  command  was  but 
the  voice  of  democracy  itself. 

We  carried  with  us  all  the  elements  of  society,  as 
has  the  Anglo-Saxon  ever.  Did  any  man  offend 
against  the  unwritten  creed  of  fair  play,  did  he  shirk 
duty  when  that  meant  danger  to  the  common  good, 
then  he  was  brought  before  a  council  of  our  leaders, 
men  of  wisdom  and  fairness,  chosen  by  the  vote  of 
all ;  and  so  he  was  judged  and  he  was  punished.  At 
that  time  there  was  not  west  of  the  Missouri  River 
any  one  who  could  administer  an  oath,  who  could 
execute  a  legal  document,  or  perpetuate  any  legal 
testimony ;  yet  with  us  the  law  marched  pari  passu 
across  the  land.  We  had  leaders  chosen  because  they 
were  fit  to  lead,  and  leaders  who  felt  full  sense  of  re- 


THE   WHOA-HAW   TRAIL  247 

sponsibility  to  those  who  chose  them.  We  had  whh 
us  great  wealth  in  flocks  and  herds — five  thousand 
head  of  cattle  went  West  with  our  caravan,  hundreds 
of  horses ;  yet  each  knew  his  own  and  asked  not  that 
of  his  neighbor.  With  us  there  were  women  and  lit 
tle  children  and  the  gray-haired  elders  bent  with 
years.  Along  our  road  we  left  graves  here  and  there, 
for  death  went  with  us.  In  our  train  also  were  many 
births,  life  coming  to  renew  the  cycle.  At  times,  too, 
there  were  rejoicings  of  the  newly  wed  in  our  train. 
Our  young  couples  found  society  awheel  valid  Ss 
that  abiding  under  permanent  roof. 

At  the  head  of  our  column,  we  bore  the  flag  of  our 
Republic.  On  our  flanks  were  skirmishers,  like  those 
guarding  the  flanks  of  an  army.  It  was  an  army — 
an  army  of  our  people.  With  us  marched  women. 
With  us  marched  home.  That  was  the  difference  be 
tween  our  cavalcade  and  that  slower  and  more  selfish 
one,  made  up  of  men  alone,  which  that  same  year 
was  faring  westward  along  the  upper  reaches  of  the 
Canadian  Plains.  That  was  why  we  won.  It  was 
because  women  and  plows  were  with  us. 

Our  great  column,  made  up  of  more  than  one  hun 
dred  wagons,  was  divided  into  platoons  of  four,  each 
platoon  leading  for  a  day,  then  falling  behind  to 
take  the  bitter  dust  of  those  in  advance.  At  noon  we 
parted  our  wagons  in  platoons,  and  at  night  we  drew 
them  invariably  into  a  great  barricade,  circular  in 


248     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

form,  the  leading  wagon  marking  out  the  circle,  the 
others  dropping  in  behind,  the  tongue  of  each 
against  the  tail-gate  of  the  wagon  ahead,  and  the 
last  wagon  closing  up  the  gap.  Our  circle  com 
pleted,  the  animals  were  unyoked  and  the  tongues 
were  chained  fast  to  the  wagons  next  ahead ;  so  that 
each  night  we  had  a  sturdy  barricade,  incapable  of 
being  stampeded  by  savages,  whom  more  than  once 
we  fought  and  defeated.  Each  night  we  set  out  a 
guard,  our  men  taking  turns,  and  the  night  watches 
in  turn  rotating,  so  that  each  man  got  his  share  of 
the  entire  night  during  the  progress  of  his  journey. 
Each  morn  we  rose  to  the  notes  of  a  bugle,  and  each 
day  we  marched  in  order,  under  command,  under  a 
certain  schedule.  Loosely  connected,  independent, 
individual,  none  the  less  already  we  were  establish 
ing  a  government  We  took  the  American  Republic 
with  us  across  the  Plains ! 

This  manner  of  travel  offered  much  monotony, 
yet  it  had  its  little  pleasures.  For  my  own  part,  my 
early  experience  in  Western  matters  placed  me  in 
charge  of  our  band  of  hunters,  whose  duty  it  was  to 
ride  at  the  flanks  of  our  caravan  each  day  and  to 
kill  sufficient  buffalo  for  meat.  This  work  of  the 
chase  gave  us  more  to  do  than  was  left  for  those  who 
plodded  along  or  rode  bent  over  upon  the  wagon 
seats ;  yet  even  for  these  there  was  some  relaxation. 
At  night  we  met  in  little  social  circles  around  the 


THE   WHOA-HAW    TRAIL  249s 

camp-fires.  Young  folk  made  love;  old  folk  made 
plans  here  as  they  had  at  home.  A  church  marched 
with  us  as  well  as  the  law  and  courts ;  and,  what  was 
more,  the  schools  went  also ;  for  by  the  faint  flicker 
of  the  firelight  many  parents  taught  their  children 
each  day  as  they  moved  westward  to  their  new 
homes.  History  shows  these  children  were  well 
taught.  There  were  persons  of  education  and  cul 
ture  with  us. 

Music  we  had,  and  of  a  night  time,  even  while  the 
coyotes  were  calling  and  the  wind  whispering  in  the 
short  grasses  of  the  Plains,  violin  and  flute  would 
sometimes  blend  their  voices,  and  I  have  thus  heard 
songs  which  I  would  not  exchange  in  memory  for 
others  which  I  have  heard  in  surroundings  far  more 
ambitious.  Sometimes  dances  were  held  on  the 
greensward  of  our  camps.  Regularly  the  Sabbath 
day  was  observed  by  at  least  the  most  part  of  our 
pilgrims.  Upon  all  our  party  there  seemed  to  sit  an 
air  of  content  and  certitude.  Of  all  our  wagons,  I 
presume  one  was  of  greatest  value.  It  was  filled 
with  earth  to  the  brim,  and  in  it  were  fruit  trees 
planted,  and  shrubs;  and  its  owner  carried  seeds  of 
garden  plants.  Without  doubt,  it  was  our  mission 
and  our  intent  to  take  with  us  such  civilization  as  w^ 
had  left  behind. 

So  we  marched,  mingled,  and,  as  some  might  have 
said,  motley  in  our  personnel — sons  of  some  of  the 


250    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

best  families  in  the  South,  men  from  the  Carolinas 
and  Virginia,  Georgia  and  Louisiana,  men  from 
Pennsylvania  and  Ohio;  Roundhead  and  Cavalier, 
Easterner  and  Westerner,  Germans,  Yankees,, 
Scotch-Irish — all  Americans.  We  marched,  I  says 
under  a  form  of  government;  yet  each  took  his  orig* 
inal  marching  orders  from  his  own  soul.  We 
marched  across  an  America  not  yet  won.  Below  us 
lay  the  Spanish  civilization — Mexico,  possibly  soon 
to  be  led  by  Britain,  as  some  thought.  North  of  us 
was  Canada,  now  fully  alarmed  and  surely  led  by 
Britain.  West  of  us,  all  around  us,  lay  the  Indian 
tribes.  Behind,  never  again  to  be  seen  by  most  of 
us  who  marched,  lay  the  homes  of  an  earlier  genera 
tion.  But  we  marched,  each  obeying  the  orders  of 
his  own  soul.  Some  day  the  song  of  this  may  be 
sung ;  some  day,  perhaps,  its  canvas  may  be  painted. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

OREGON 

The  spell  and  the  light  of  each  path  we  pursue— 
If  woman  be  there,  there  is  happiness  too. 

— Moore. 

TWENTY  miles  a  day,  week  in  and  week  out, 
we  edged  westward  up  the  Platte,  in  heat 
and  dust  part  of  the  time,  often  plagued  at 
night  by  clouds  of  mosquitoes.  Our  men  endured 
the  penalties  of  the  journey  without  comment.  I  do 
not  recall  that  I  ever  heard  even  the  weakest  woman 
complain.  Thus  at  last  we  reached  the  South  Pass 
of  the  Rockies,  not  yet  half  done  our  journey,  and 
entered  upon  that  portion  of  the  trail  west  of  the 
Rockies,  which  had  still  two  mountain  ranges  to 
cross,  and  which  was  even  more  apt  to  be  infested  by 
the  hostile  Indians.  Even  when  we  reached  the 
ragged  trading  post,  Fort  Hall,  we  had  still  more 
than  six  hundred  miles  to  go. 

By  this  time  our  forces  had  wasted  as  though  un* 
der  assault  of  arms.  Far  back  on  the  trail,  many 
had  been  forced  to  leave  prized  belongings,  relics, 
heirlooms,  implements,  machinery,  all  conveniences. 

251 


FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 


The  finest  of  mahogany  blistered  in  the  sun,  aban 
doned  and  unheeded.  Our  trail  might  have  been 
followed  by  discarded  implements  of  agriculture, 
and  by  whitened  bones  as  well.  Our  footsore  teams, 
gaunt  and  weakened,  began  to  faint  and  fall.  Horses 
and  oxen  died  in  the  harness  or  under  the  yoke,  and 
were  perforce  abandoned  where  they  fell.  Each 
pound  of  superfluous  weight  was  cast  away  as  our 
motive  power  thus  lessened.  Wagons  were  aban 
doned,  goods  were  packed  on  horses,  oxen  and  cows. 

We  put  cows  into  the  yoke  now,  and  used  women 
instead  of  men  on  the  drivers'  seats,  and  boys  who 
started  riding  finished  afoot.  Our  herds  were  sadly 
lessened  by  theft  of  the  Indians,  by  death,  by  stray- 
ings  which  our  guards  had  not  time  to  follow  up. 
If  a  wagon  lagged  it  was  sawed  shorter  to  lessen  its 
weight.  Sometimes  the  hind  wheels  were  aban 
doned,  and  the  reduced  personal  belongings  were 
packed  on  the  cart  thus  made,  which  nevertheless 
traveled  on,  painfully,  slowly,  yet  always  going 
ahead.  In  the  deserts  beyond  Fort  Hall,  wagons 
disintegrated  by  the  heat.  Wheels  would  fall  apart, 
couplings  break  under  the  straining  teams.  Still 
more  here  was  the  trail  lined  with  boxes,  vehicles, 
furniture,  all  the  flotsam  and  jetsam  of  the  long,  long 
Oregon  Trail. 

The  grass  was  burned  to  its  roots,  the  streams  were 
reduced  to  ribbons,  the  mirages  of  the  desert  mocked 


OREGON  253 

us  desperately.  Rain  came  seldom  now,  and  the 
sage-brush  of  the  desert  was  white  with  bitter  dust, 
which  in  vast  clouds  rose  sometimes  in  the  wind  to 
make  our  journey  the  harder.  In  autumn,  as  we  ap 
proached  the  second  range  of  mountains,  we  could 
see  the  taller  peaks  whitened  with  snow.  Our  leaders 
looked  anxiously  ahead,  dreading  the  storms  which 
must  ere  long  overtake  us.  Still,  gaunt  now  and 
haggard,  weakened  in  body  but  not  in  soul,  we 
pressed  on  across.  That  was  the  way  to  Oregon. 

Gaunt  and  brown  and  savage,  hungry  and  grim, 
ragged,  hatless,  shoeless,  our  cavalcade  closed  up 
and  came  on,  and  so  at  last  came  through.  Ere  au 
tumn  had  yellowed  all  the  foliage  back  east  in  gen 
tler  climes,  we  crossed  the  shoulders  of  the  Blue 
Mountains  and  came  into  the  Valley  of  the  Walla 
Walla;  and  so  passed  thence  down  the  Columbia  to 
the  Valley  of  the  Willamette,  three  hundred  miles 
yet  farther,  where  there  were  then  some  slight  cen 
ters  of  our  civilization  which  had  gone  forward  the 
year  before. 

Here  were  some  few  Americans.  At  Champoeg, 
at  the  little  American  missions,  at  Oregon  City,  and 
other  scattered  points,  we  met  them,  we  hailed  and 
were  hailed  by  them.  They  were  Americans.  Women 
and  plows  were  with  them.  There  were  churches  and 
schools  already  started,  and  a  beginning  had  been 
made  in  government.  Faces  and  hands  and  ways 


254    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

and  customs  and  laws  of  our  own  people  greeted  us* 
Yes.  It  was  America. 

Messengers  spread  abroad  the  news  of  the  arrival 
of  our  wagon  train.  Messengers,  too,  came  down 
from  the  Hudson  Bay  posts  to  scan  our  equipment 
and  estimate  our  numbers.  There  was  no  word  ob 
tainable  from  these  of  any  Canadian  column  of  oc 
cupation  to  the  northward  which  had  crossed  at  the 
head  of  the  Peace  River  or  the  Saskatchewan,  or 
which  lay  ready  at  the  head  waters  of  the  Fraser  or 
the  Columbia  to  come  down  to  the  lower  settlements 
for  the  purpose  of  bringing  to  an  issue,  or  making 
more  difficult,  this  question  of  the  joint  occupancy  of 
Oregon.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  ultimately  we  won  that 
transcontinental  race  so  decidedly  that  there  never 
was  admitted  to  have  been  a  second. 

As  for  our  people,  they  knew  how  neither  to  hesi 
tate  nor  to  dread.  They  unhooked  their  oxen  from 
the  wagons  and  put  them  to  the  plows.  The  fruit 
trees,  which  had  crossed  three  ranges  of  mountains 
and  two  thousand  miles  of  unsettled  country,  now 
found  new  rooting.  Streams  which  had  borne  no 
fruit  save  that  of  the  beaver  traps  now  were  made 
to  give  tribute  to  little  fields  and  gardens,  or  asked  to 
transport  wheat  instead  of  furs.  The  forests  which 
had  blocked  our  way  were  now  made  into  roofs  and 
walls  and  fences.  Whatever  the  future  might  bring, 
those  who  had  come  so  far  and  dared  so  much  feared 


OREGON  255 

that  future  no  more  than  they  had  feared  the  trou 
bles  which  in  detail  they  had  overcome  in  their  vast 
pilgrimage. 

So  we  took  Oregon  by  the  only  law  of  right.  Out 
broken  and  weakened  cavalcade  asked  renewal  from 
!the  soil  itself.  We  ruffled  no  drum,  fluttered  no  flag, 
to  take  possession  of  the  land.  But  the  canvas  covers 
of  our  wagons  gave  way  to  permanent  roofs.  Where 
we  had  known  a  hundred  camp-fire?,  now  we  lighted 
the  fires  of  many  hundredTiomes. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

THE  DEBATED  COUNTRY 

The  world  was  sad,  the  garden  was  a  wild! 
The  man,  the  hermit,  sighed — till  woman  smiled! 


OUR  ,army  of  peaceful  occupation  scattered 
along  the  more  fertile  parts  of  the  land, 
principally  among  the  valleys.    Of  course, 
it  should  not  be  forgotten  that  what  was  then  called 
Oregon  meant  all  of  what  now  is  embraced  in  Ore 
gon,  Washington  and  Idaho,  with  part  of  Wyoming 
as  well.     It  extended  south  to  the  Mexican  posses 
sions  of  California.    How  far  north  it  was  to  run,  it 
was  my  errand  here  to  learn. 

To  all  apparent  purposes,  I  simply  was  one  of  the 
new  settlers  in  Oregon,  animated  by  like  motives, 
possessed  of  little  more  means,  and  disposed  to  ad 
just  myself  to  existing  circumstances,  much  as  did 
my  fellows.  The  physical  conditions  of  life  in  a  coun 
try  abounding  in  wild  game  and  fish,  and  where 
even  careless  planting  would  yield  abundant  crops, 
offered  no  very  difficult  task  to  young  men  accus 
tomed  to  shifting  for  themselves ;  so  that  I  looked 
forward  to  the  winter  with  no  dread. 

256 


THE  DEBATED  COUNTRY    257 

I  settled  near  the  mouth  of  the  Willamette  River, 
near  Oregon  City,  and  not  far  from  where  the  city  of 
Portland  later  was  begun ;  and  builded  for  myself  a 
little  cabin  of  two  rooms,  with  a  connecting  roof. 
This  I  furnished,  ,as  did  my  neighbors  their  similar 
abodes,  with  a  table  made  of  hewed  puncheons* 
chairs  sawed  from  blocks,  a  bed  framed  from  poles, 
on  which  lay  a  rude  mattress  of  husks  and  straw. 
My  window-panes  were  made  of  oiled  deer  hide. 
Thinking  that  perhaps  I  might  need  to  plow  in  the 
coming  season,  I  made  me  a  plow  like  those  around 
me,  which  might  have  come  from  Mexico  or  Egypt 
— a  forked  limb  bound  with  rawhide.  Wood  and 
hide,  were,  indeed,  our  only  materials.  If  a  wagon 
wheel  showed  signs  of  disintegration,  we  lashed  it 
together  with  rawhide.  When  the  settlers  of  the  Last 
year  sought  to  carry  wheat  to  market  on  the  Wil 
lamette  barges,  they  did  so  in  sacks  made  of  the 
hides  of  deer.  Our  clothing  was  of  skins  and  furs. 

From  the  Eastern  States  I  scarcely  could  now  hear 
in  less  than  ,a  year,  for  another  wagon  train  could 
not  start  west  from  the  Missouri  until  the  following 
spring.  We  could  only  guess  how  events  were  going 
forward  in  our  diplomacy.  We  did  not  know,  and' 
would  not  know  for  a  year,  the  result  of  the  Demo 
cratic  convention  at  Baltimore,  of  the  preceding 
spring!  We  could  only  wonder  who  might  be  the 
party  nominees  for  the  presidency.  We  had  a  na-. 


258     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

tional  government,  but  did  not  know  what  it  was,  or 
who  administered  it  War  might  be  declared,  but  we 
in  Oregon  would  not  be  aware  of  it.  Again,  war 
might  break  out  in  Oregon,  and  the  government  at 
Washington  could  not  know  that  fact. 

The  mild  winter  wore  away,  and  I  learned  little. 
Spring  came,  and  still  no  word  of  any  land  expedi 
tion  out  of  Canada.  We  and  the  Hudson  Bay  folk 
still  dwelt  in  peace.  The  flowers  began  to  bloom  in 
the  wild  meads,  and  the  horses  fattened  on  their  na 
tive  pastures.  Wider  and  wider  lay  the  areas  of 
black  overturned  soil,  as  our  busy  farmers  kept  on  at 
their  work.  Wider  grew  the  clearings  in  the  forest 
lands.  Our  fruit  trees,  which  we  had  brought  two 
thousand  miles  in  the  nursery  wagon,  began  to  put 
out  tender  leafage.  There  were  eastern  flowers — • 
marigolds,  hollyhocks,  mignonette — planted  in  the 
front  yards  of  our  little  cabins.  Vines  were  trained 
over  trellises  here  and  there.  Each  flower  was  a 
rivet>  each  vine  a  cord,  which  bound  Oregon  to  our 
Republic. 

Summer  came  on.  The  fields  began  to  whiten 
with  the  ripening  grain.  I  grew  uneasy,  feeling  my 
self  only  an  idler  in  a  land  so  able  to  fend  for  itself. 
I  now  was  much  disposed  to  discuss  means  of  get 
ting  back  over  the  long  trail  to  the  eastward,  to 
carry  the  news  that  Oregon  was  ours.  I  had,  it  must 
be  confessed,  nothing  new  to  suggest  as  to  making  it 


THE  DEBATED  COUNTRY    259 

firmly  and  legally  ours,  beyond  what  had  already 
been  suggested  in  the  minds  of  our  settlers  them 
selves.  It  was  at  this  time  that  there  occurred  a 
startling  and  decisive  event. 

I  was  on  my  way  on  a  canoe  voyage  up  the  wide 
Columbia,  not  far  above  the  point  where  it  receives 
its  greatest  lower  tributary,  the  Willamette,  when  all 
at  once  I  heard  the  sound  of  a  cannon  shot.  I  turned 
to  see  the  cloud  of  blue  smoke  still  hanging  over  the 
surface  of  the  water.  Slowly  there  swung  into  view 
an  ocean-going  vessel  under  steam  and  auxiliary 
canvas.  She  made  a  gallant  spectacle.  But  whose 
ship  was  she?  I  examined  her  colors  anxiously 
enough.  I  caught  the  import  of  her  ensign.  She 
flew  the  British  Union  Jack! 

England  had  won  the  race  by  sea! 

Something  in  the  ship's  outline  seemed  to  me  fa 
miliar.  I  knew  the  set  of  her  short  masts,  the  pitch 
of  her  smokestacks,  the  number  of  her  guns.  Yes, 
she  was  the  Modeste  of  the  English  Navy — the  same 
ship  which  more  than  a  year  before  I  had  seen  at 
anchor  off  Montreal ! 

News  travels  fast  in  wild  countries,  and  it  took  us 
little  time  to  learn  the  destination  of  the  Modeste. 
She  came  to  anchor  above  Oregon  City,  and  well 
below  Fort  Vancouver.  At  once,  of  course,  her  offi 
cers  made  formal  calls  upon  Doctor  McLaughlin, 
the  factor  at  Fort  Vancouver,  and  accepted  head  of 


260    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

the  British  element  thereabouts.  Two  weeks  passed 
in  rumors  and  counter  rumors,  and  a  vastly  danger 
ous  tension  existed  in  all  the  American  settlements, 
because  word  was  spread  that  England  had  sent  a 
ship  to  oust  us.  Then  came  to  myself  and  certain 
others  at  Oregon  City  messengers  from  peace-loving 
Doctor  McLaughlin,  asking  us  to  join  him  in  a  little 
celebration  in  honor  of  the  arrival  of  her  Majesty's 
vessel. 

Here  at  last  was  news ;  but  it  was  news  not  wholly 
to  my  liking  which  I  soon  unearthed.  The  Modeste 
was  but  one  ship  of  fifteen !  A  fleet  of  fifteen  vessels, 
four  hundred  guns,  then  lay  in  Puget  Sound.  The 
watch-dogs  of  Great  Britain  were  at  our  doors.  This 
question  of  monarchy  and  the  Republic  was  not  yet 
settled,  after  all ! 

I  pass  the  story  of  the  banquet  at  Fort  Vancouver, 
because  it  is  unpleasant  to  recite  the  difficulties  of  a 
kindly  host  who  finds  himself  with  jarring  elements 
at  his  board.  Precisely  this  was  the  situation  of 
white-haired  Doctor  McLaughlin  of  Fort  Vancou 
ver.  It  was  an  incongruous  assembly  in  the  first 
place.  The  officers  of  the  British  Navy  attended  in 
the  splendor  of  their  uniforms,  glittering  in  braid 
and  gold.  Even  Doctor  McLaughlin  made  brave 
display,  as  was  his  wont,  in  his  regalia  of  dark  blue 
cloth  and  shining  buttons — his  noble  features  and 
long,  snow-white  hair  making  him  the  most  lordly. 


?HE    DEBATED    COUNTRY          261 

figure  of  them  all.  As  for  us  Americans,  lean  and 
brown,  with  hands  hardened  by  toil,  our  wardrobes 
scattered  over  a  thousand  miles  of  trail,  buckskin 
tunics  made  our  coats,  and  moccasins  our  boots.  I 
have  seen  some  noble  gentlemen  so  clad  in  my  day. 

We  Americans  were  forced  to  listen  to  many  toasts 
at  that  little  frontier  banquet  entirely  to  our  dislik 
ing.  We  heard  from  Captain  Parke  that  "the  Co 
lumbia  belonged  to  Great  Britain  as  much  as  the 
Thames" ;  that  Great  Britain's  guns  "could  blow  all 
the  Americans  off  the  map" ;  that  her  fleet  at  Puget 
Sound  waited  but  for  the  signal  to  "hoist  the  British 
flag  over  all  the  coast  from  Mexico  to  Russia."  Yet 
Doctor  McLaughlin,  kindly  and  gentle  as  always, 
better  advised  than  any  one  there  on  the  intricacies 
of  the  situation  now  in  hand,  only  smiled  and  pro 
tested  and  explained. 

For  myself,  I  passed  only  as  plain  settler.  No  one 
knew  my  errand  in  the  codntry,  and  I  took  pains, 
though  my  blood  boiled,  as  did  that  of  our  other 
Americans  present  at  that  board,  to  keep  a  silent 
tongue  in  my  head.  If  this  were  joint  occupancy,  I 
for  one  was  ready  to  say  it  was  time  to  make  an  end 
of  it  But  how  might  that  be  done?  At  least  the 
proceedings  of  the  evening  gave  no  answer. 

It  was,  as  may  be  supposed,  late  in  the  night  when 
our  somewhat  discordant  banqueting  party  broke  up. 
We  were  all  housed,  as  was  the  hospitable  fashion 


262     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

of  the  country,  in  the  scattered  log  buildings  which 
nearly  always  hedge  in  a  western  fur-trading  post. 
The  quarters  assigned  me  lay  across  the  open  space, 
of  what  might  be  called  the  parade  ground  of  Fort 
Vancouver,  flanked  by  Doctor  McLaughlin's  four 
little  cannon. 

As  I  made  my  way  home,  stumbling  among  the 
stumps  in  the  dark,  I  passed  many  semi-drunken  In 
dians  and  voyageurs,  to  whom  special  liberty  had 
been  accorded  in  view  of  the  occasion,  all  of  them 
now  engaged  in  singing  the  praises  of  the  ''King 
George"  men  as  against  the  "Bostons."  I  talked 
now  and  again  with  some  of  our  own  brown  and 
silent  border  men,  farmers  from  the  Willamette, 
none  of  them  any  too  happy,  all  of  them  sullen  and 
ready  for  trouble  in  any  form.  We  agreed  among 
us  that  absolute  quiet  and  freedom  from  any  expres 
sion  of  irritation  was  our  safest  plan.  "Wait  till 
next  fall's  wagon  trains  come  in !"  That  was  the  ex 
pression  of  our  new  governor,  Mr.  Applegate;  and  I 
fancy  it  found  an  echo  in  the  opinions  of  most  of  the 
Americans.  By  snowfall,  as  we  believed,  the  bal 
ance  of  power  would  be  all  upon  our  side,  and  our 
swift-moving  rifles  would  outweigh  ail  their  an 
chored  cannon. 

I  was  almost  at  my  cabin  door  at  the  edge  of  the 
forest  frontage  at  the  rear  of  the  old  post,  when  I 


THE  DEBATED  COUNTRY    263 

caught  glimp?c,  in  the  dim  light,  of  a  hurrying 
figure,  which  in  some  way  seemed  to  be  different 
from  the  blanket-covered  squaws  who  stalked  here 
and  there  about  the  post  grounds.  At  first  I  thought 
she  might  be  the  squaw  of  one  of  the  employees  of 
the  company,  who  lived  scattered  about,  some  of 
them  now,  by  the  advice  of  Doctor  McLaughlin,  be 
ginning  to  till  little  fields ;  but,  as  I  have  said,  there 
was  something  in  the  stature  or  carriage  or  garb  of 
this  woman  which  caused  me  idly  to  follow  her,  at 
first  with  my  eyes  and  then  with  my  footsteps. 

She  passed  steadily  on  toward  a  long  and  low  log 
cabin,  located  a  short  distance  beyond  the  quarters 
which  had  been  assigned  to  me.  I  saw  her  step  up 
to  the  door  and  heard  her  knock;  then  there  came  a 
flood  of  light — more  light  than  was  usual  in  the 
opening  of  the  door  of  a  frontier  cabin.  This  dis 
played  the  figure  of  the  night  walker,  showing  her 
tall  and  gaunt  and  a  little  stooped ;  so  that,  after  all, 
I  took  her  to  be  only  one  of  our  American  frontier 
women,  being  quite  sure  that  she  was  not  Indian  or 
half-breed. 

This  emboldened  me,  on  a  mere  chance — an  act 
whose  mental  origin  I  could  not  have  traced — -to 
step  up  to  the  door  after  it  had  been  closed,  and 
myself  to  knock  thereat.  If  it  were  a  party  of  Am<wtv 
icans  here,  I  wished  to  question  them;  i£ 


264     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

intended  to  make  excuses  by  asking  my  way  to  my 
own  quarters.  It  was  my  business  to  learn  the  news 
of  Oregon. 

I  heard  women's  voices  within,  and  as  I  knocked 
the  door  opened  just  a  trifle  on  its  chain.  I  saw 
appear  at  the  crack  the  face  of  the  woman  whom  I 
had  followed. 

She  was,  as  I  had  believed,  old  and  wrinkled,  and 
her  face  now,  seen  close,  was  as  mysterious,  dark 
and  inscrutable  as  that  of  any  Indian  squaw.  Her 
hair  fell  heavy  and  gray  across  her  forehead,  and 
her  eyes  were  small  and  dark  as  those  of  a  native 
woman.  Yet,  as  she  stood  there  with  the  light 
streaming  upon  her,  I  saw  something  in  her  face 
which  made  me  puzzle,  ponder  and  start — and  put 
my  foot  within  the  crack  of  the  door. 

When  she  found  she  could  not  close  the  door,  she 
called  out  in  some  foreign  tongue.  I  heard  a  voice 
answer.  The  blood  tingled  in  the  roots  of  my  hair ! 

"Threlka,"  I  said  quietly,  "tell  Madam  the  Bar- 
oness  it  is  I,  Monsieur  Trist,  of  Washington." 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

IN   THE   CABIN   OF   MADAM 

Woman  must  not  belong  to  herself;  she  is  bound  to  aliefl 
destinies. — Friedrich  von  Schiller. 

WITH  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  the  old 
woman  departed  from  the  door.  I 
heard  the  rustle  of  a  footfall.  I  could 
have  told  in  advance  what  face  would  now  appear 
outlined  in  the  candle  glow — with  eyes  wide  and 
startled,  with  lips  half  parted  in  query.  It  was  the 
face  of  Helena,  Baroness  von  Ritz ! 

"Eh  bien!  madam,  why  do  you  bar  me  out?"  I 
said,  as  though  we  had  parted  but  yesterday. 

In  her  sheer  astonishment,  I  presume,  she  let 
down  the  fastening  chain,  and  without  her  invita 
tion  I  stepped  within.  I  heard  her  startled  "Mon 
Dieu!"  then  her  more  deliberate  exclamation  of 
-emotion.  "My  God  !"  she  said.  She  stood,  with  her 
hands  caught  at  her  throat,  staring  at  me.  I  laughed 
and  held  out  a  hand. 

"Madam  Baroness,"  I  said,  "how  glad  I  am! 
Come,  has  not  fate  been  kind  to  us  again  ?" 

J  pushed  shut  the  door  behind  me.  Still  without 
265 


266     FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

a  word,  she  stepped  deeper  into  the  room  .and  stood 
looking  at  me,  her  hands  clasped  now  loosely  and 
awkwardly,  as  though  she  were  a  country  girl  sur 
prised,  and  not  the  Baroness  Helena  von  Ritz,  toast 
or  talk  of  more  than  one  capital  of  the  world. 

Yet  she  was  the  same.  She  seemed  slightly  thinner 
now,  yet  not  less  beautiful.  Her  eyes  were  dark  and 
brilliant  as  ever.  The  clear  features  of  her  face 
were  framed  in  the  roll  of  her  heavy  locks,  as  I  had 
seen  them  last.  Her  garb,  as  usual,  betokened  lux 
ury.  She  was  robed  as  though  for  some  fete,  all  in 
white  satin,  and  pale  blue  fires  of  stones  shone 
faintly  at  throat  and  wrist.  Contrast  enough  she 
made  to  me,  clad  in  smoke-browned  tunic  of  buck, 
with  the  leggings  and  moccasins  of  a  savage,  my 
belt  lacking  but  prepared  for  weapons. 

I  had  not  time  to  puzzle  over  the  question  of  her 
errand  here,  why  or  whence  she  had  come,  or  what 
she  purposed  doing.  I  was  occupied  with  the  sud 
den  surprises  which  her  surroundings  offered. 

"I  see,  Madam,"  said  I,  smiling,  "that  still  I  am 
only  asleep  and  dreaming.  But  how  exquisite  a 
dream,  here  in  this  wild  country!  How  unfit  here 
am  I,  a  savage,  who  introduce  the  one  discordant 
note  into  so  sweet  a  dream  !" 

I  gestured  to  my  costume,  gestured  about  me,  as 
I  took  in  the  details  of  the  long  room  in  which  we 
stood.  I  swear  it  was  the  same  as  that  in  which  I 


IN    THE    CABIN    OF    MADAM        267 

had  seen  her  at  a  similar  hour  in  Montreal !  It  was 
the  same  I  had  first  seen  in  Washington ! 

Impossible?  I  am  doubted?  Ah,  but  do  I  not 
know?  Did  I  not  see?  Here  were  the  pictures  on 
the  walls,  the  carved  Cupids,  the  candelabra  with 
their  prisms,  the  chairs,  the  couches !  Beyond  yon 
der  satin  curtains  rose  the  high  canopy  of  the 
embroidery-covered  couch,  its  fringed  drapery 
reaching  almost  to  the  deep  pile  of  the  carpets.  True, 
opportunity  had  not  yet  offered  for  the  full  conceal 
ment  of  these  rude  walls ;  yet,  as  my  senses  convinced 
me  even  against  themselves,  here  were  the  apart 
ments  of  Helena  von  Ritz,  furnished  as  she  had  told 
me  they  always  were  at  each  place  she  saw  fit  to 
honor  with  her  presence ! 

Yet  not  quite  the  same,  it  seemed  to  me.  There 
were  some  little  things  missing,  just  as  there  were 
some  little  things  missing  from  her  appearance.  For 
instance,  these  draperies  at  the  right,  which  for 
merly  had  cut  off  the  Napoleon  bed  at  its  end  of  the 
room,  now  were  of  blankets  and  not  of  silk.  The 
bed  itself  was  not  piled  deep  in  down,  but  con 
tained,  as  I  fancied  from  my  hurried  glance,  a  thin 
mattress,  stuffed  perhaps  with  straw.  A  roll  of 
blankets  lay  across  its  foot.  As  I  gazed  to  the 
farther  extremity  of  this  side  of  the  long  suite,  I  saw 
other  evidences  of  change.  It  was  indeed  as  though 
Helena  von  Ritz,  creature  of  luxury,  woman  of  an 


268     FIFTY-FOUR   FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

old,  luxurious  world,  exotic  of  monarchical  sur 
roundings,  had  begun  insensibly  to  slip  into  the  ways 
of  the  rude  democracy  of  the  far  frontiers. 

I  saw  all  this;  but  ere  I  had  finished  my  first  hur 
ried  glance  I  had  accepted  her,  as  always  one  must, 
just  as  she  was;  had  accepted  her  surroundings,  pre 
posterously  impossible  as  they  all  were  from  any 
logical  point  of  view,  as  fitting  to  herself  and  to  her 
humor.  It  was  not  for  me  to  ask  how  or  why  she 
did  these  things.  She  had  done  them ;  because,  here 
they  were;  and  here  was  she.  We  had  found  Eng 
land's  woman  on  the  Columbia! 

"Yes,"  said  she  at  length,  slowly,  "yes,  I  now 
believe  it  to  be  fate." 

She  had  not  yet  smiled.  I  took  her  hand  and  held 
it  long.  I  felt  glad  to  see  her,  and  to  take  her  hand ; 
it  seemed  pledge  of  friendship;  and  as  things  now 
were  shaping,  I  surely  needed  a  friend. 

At  last,  her  face  flushing  slightly,  she  disengaged 
her  hand  and  motioned  me  to  a  seat.  But  still  we 
stood  silent  for  a  few  moments.  "Have  you  no  curi 
osity  ?"  said  she  at  length. 

"I  am  too  happy  to  have  curiosity,  my  dear 
Madam." 

"You  will  not  even  ask  me  why  I  am  here?"  shej 
insisted. 

"I  know.  I  have  known  all  along.  You  are  in  the 
pay  of  England.  When  I  missed  you  at  Montreal^  I 


IN    THE    CABIN    OF    MADAM        269 

knew  you  had  sailed  on  the  Modeste  for  Oregon. 
We  knew  all  this,  and  planned  for  it  I  have  come 
across  by  land  to  meet  you.  I  have  waited.  I  greet 
you  now!" 

She  looked  me  now  clearly  in  the  face.  "I  am  not 
sure,'*  said  she  at  length,  slowly. 

"Not  sure  of  what,  Madam?  When  you  travel  on 
England's  warship,"  I  smiled,  "you  travel  as  the 
guest  of  England  herself.  If,  then,  you  are  not  for 
England,  in  God's  name,  whose  friend  are  you?" 

"Whose  friend  am  I  ?"  she  answered  slowly.  "I 
say  to  you  that  I  do  not  know.  Nor  do  I  know  who 
is  my  friend.  A  friend — what  is  that?  I  never 
knew  one !" 

"Then  be  mine.  Let  me  be  your  friend.  You 
know  my  history.  You  know  about  me  and  my  work, 
I  throw  my  secret  into  your  hands.  You  will  not 
betray  me?  You  warned  me  once,  at  Montreal.  Will 
you  riot  shield  me  once  again  ?" 

She  nodded,  smiling  now  in  an  amused  way. 
"Monsieur  always  takes  the  most  extraordinary 
times  to  visit  me!  Monsieur  asks  always  the  most 
extraordinary  things!  Monsieur  does  always  the 
most  extraordinary  acts !  He  takes  me  to  call  upon 
a  gentleman  in  a  night  robe!  He  calls  upon  me 
himself,  of  an  evening,  in  dinner  dress  of  hides  and 
beads—" 

"  Tis  the  best  I  have,  Madam !"     I  colored,  but 


270    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

her  eye  had  not  criticism,  though  her  speech  had 
mockery. 

"This  is  the  costume  of  your  American  savages,"* 
she  said.  "I  find  it  among  the  most  beautiful  I  have 
ever  seen.  Only  a  man  can  wear  it  You  wear  i'. 
like  a  man.  I  like  you  in  it — I  have  never  liked  you 
so  well.  Betray  you,  Monsieur?.  Why  should  I? 
How  could  I  ?" 

"That  is  true.  Why  should  you?  You  are  Hel 
ena  von  Ritz.  One  of  her  breeding  does  not  betray 
men  or  women.  Neither  does  she  make  any  jour 
neys  of  this  sort  without  a  purpose." 

"I  had  a  purpose,  when  I  started.  I  changed  it  in 
mid-ocean.  Now,  I  was  on  my  way  to  the  Orient." 

"And  had  forgotten  your  report  to  Mr.  Paken- 
ham?"  I  shook  my  head.  "Madam,  you  are  the 
guest  of  England." 

"I  never  denied  that,"  she  said.  "I  was  that  in 
Washington.  I  was  so  in  Montreal.  But  I  have 
never  given  pledge  which  left  me  other  than  free  to 
go  as  I  liked.  I  have  studied,  that  is  true — but  I 
have  not  reported." 

"Have  we  not  been  fair  with  you,  Baroness  ?  Has 
my  chief  not  proved  himself  fair  with  you?" 

"Yes,"  she  nodded.  "You  have  played  the  game 
fairly,  that  is  true." 

"Then  you  will  play  it  fair  with  us?    Come,  I  say 


IN   THE    CABIN    OF    MADAM        271 

you  have  still  that  chance  to  win  the  gratitude  of  a 
people." 

"I  begin  to  understand  you  better,  you  Amer 
icans,"  she  said  irrelevantly,  as  was  sometimes  her 
fancy.  "See  my  bed  yonder.  It  is  that  couch  of 
husks  of  which  Monsieur  told  me!  Here  is  the 
cabin  of  logs.  There  is  the  fireplace.  Here  is  Helena 
von  Ritz — even  as  you  told  me  once  before  she 
sometime  might  be.  And  here  on  my  wrists  are  the 
imprints  of  your  fingers !  What  does  it  mean,  Mon 
sieur?  Am  I  not  an  apt  student?  See,  I  made  up 
that  little  bed  with  my  own  hands !  I —  Why,  see, 
I  can  cook !  What  you  once  said  to  me  lingered  in 
my  mind.  At  first,  it  was  matter  only  of  curiosity. 
Presently  I  began  to  see  what  was  beneath  your 
words,  what  fullness  of  life  there  might  be  even  in 
poverty.  I  said  to  myself,  'My  God!  were  it  not, 
after  all,  enough,  this,  if  one  be  loved  ?'  So  then,  in 
spite  of  myself,  without  planning,  I  say,  I  began  to 
understand.  I  have  seen  about  me  here  these  sav 
ages — savages  who  have  walked  thousands  of  miles 
in  a  pilgrimage — for  what?" 

"For  what,  Madam?"  I  demanded.  "For  what? 
For  a  cabin !  For  a  bed  of  husks !  Was  it  then  for 
the  sake  of  ease,  for  the  sake  of  selfishness?  Come, 
can  you  betray  a  people  of  whom  you  can  say  so 
much?" 


272     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"Ah,  now  you  would  try  to  tempt  me  from  a  trust 
which  has  been  reposed  in  me!" 

"Not  in  the  least  I  would  not  have  you  break 
your  word  with  Mr.  Pakenham;  but  I  know  you  are 
here  on  the  same  errand  as  myself.  You  are  to 
learn  facts  and  report  them  to  Mr.  Pakenham — as  I 
am  to  Mr.  Calhoun." 

"What  does  Monsieur  suggest?"  she  asked  me, 
with  her  little  smile, 

"Nothing,  except  that  you  take  back  all  the  facts 
— and  allow  them  to  mediate.  Let  them  determine 
between  the  Old  World  and  this  New  one — yon  satin 
couch  and  this  rude  one  you  have  learned  to  makeJ 
Tell  the  truth  only.  Choose,  then,  Madam !" 

"Nations  do  not  ask  the  truth.  They  want  only 
excuses." 

"Quite  true.  And  because  of  that,  all  the  more 
rests  with  you.  If  this  situation  goes  on,  war  must 
come.  It  can  not  be  averted,  unless  it  be  by  some 
agency  quite  outside  of  these  two  governments* 
Here,  then,  Madam,  is  Helena  von  Ritz !" 

"At  least,  there  is  time,"  she  mused.  "Thes* 
ships  are  not  here  for  any  immediate  active  war. 
Great  Britain  will  make  no  move  until — " 

"Until  Madam  the  Baroness,  special  agent  of 
England,  most  trusted  agent,  makes  her  report  to 
Mr.  Pakenham!  Until  he  reports  to  his  govern 
ment,  and  until  that  government  declares  war! 


IN    THE    CABIN    OF    MADAM        27? 

*Twill  take  a  year  or  more.  Meantime,  you  have  not 
reported  ?" 

"No,  I  am  not  yet  ready." 

"Certainly  not.  You  are  not  yet  possessed  of  your 
(acts.  You  have  not  yet  seen  this  country.  You  do 
not  yet  know  these  men — the  same  savages  who  once 
accounted  for  another  Pakenham  at  New  Orleans — 
hardy  as  buffaloes,  fierce  as  wolves.  Wait  and  see 
them  come  pouring  across  the  mountains  into  Ore 
gon.  Then  make  your  report  to  this  Pakenham. 
Ask  him  if  England  wishes  to  fight  our  backwoods 
men  once  more!" 

"You  credit  me  with  very  much  ability!"  she 
smiled. 

"With  all  ability.  What  conquests  you  have  made 
in  the  diplomacy  of  the  Old  World  I  do  not  know. 
You  have  known  courts.  I  have  known  none.  Yet 
you  are  learning  life.  You  are  learning  the  mean 
ing  of  the  only  human  idea  of  the  world,  that  of  a 
democracy  of  endeavor,  where  all  are  equal  in  their 
chances  and  in  their  hopes.  That,  Madam,  is  the 
only  diplomacy  which  will  live.  If  you  have  passed 
on  that  torch  of  principle  of  which  you  spoke — if  I 
;an  do  as  much — then  all  will  be  well.  We  shall 
have  served." 

She  dropped  now  into  a  chair  near  by  a  little 
table,  where  the  light  of  the  tall  candles,  guttering 
in  their  enameled  sconces,  fell  full  upon  her  face. 


274     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

She  looked  at  me  fixedly,  her  eyes  dark  and  mourn* 
f  ul  in  spite  of  their  eagerness. 

"Ah,  it  is  easy  for  you  to  speak,  easy  for  you  who 
have  so  rich  and  full  a  life — who  have  all !  But  I 
- — my  hands  are  empty  !"  She  spread  out  her  curved 
fingers,  looking  at  them,  dropping  her  hands,  pa 
thetically  drooping  her  shoulders. 

"All,  Madam?  What  do  you  mean?  You  see  me 
almost  in  rags.  Beyond  the  rifle  at  my  cabin,  the 
pistol  at  my  tent,  I  have  scarce  more  in  wealth  than 
what  I  wear,  while  you  have  what  you  like." 

"All  but  everything!"  she  murmured;  "all  but 
home!" 

"Nor  have  I  a  home." 

"All,  except  that  my  couch  is  empty  save  for  my 
self  and  my  memories !" 

"Not  more  than  mine,  nor  with  sadder  memories, 
Madam." 

"Why,  what  do  you  mean?"  she  asked  me  sud 
denly.  "What  do  you  mean?"  She  repeated  it 
again,  as  though  half  in  horror. 

"Only  that  we  are  equal  and  alike.  That  we  ar' 
here  on  the  same  errand.  That  our  view  of  life 
should  be  the  same." 

"What  do  you  mean  about  home?  But  tell  me, 
were  you  not  then  married?" 

"No,  I  am  alone,  Madam.  I  never  shall  be  mar 
ried." 


IN    THE    CABIN    OF    MADAM        275 

There  may  have  been  some  slight  motion  of  a 
hand  which  beckoned  me  to  a  seat  at  the  opposite 
side  of  the  table.  As  I  sat,  I  saw  her  search  my  face 
carefully,  slowly,  with  eyes  I  could  not  read.  At 
last  she  spoke,  after  her  frequent  fashion,  half  to 
herself. 

"It  succeeded,  then!"  said  she.  "Yet  I  am  not 
happy !  Yet  I  have  failed !" 

"I  pause,  Madam,"  said  I,  smiling.  "I  await  your 
pleasure." 

"Ah,  God!  Ah,  God!"  she  sighed.  "What  have 
I  done?"  She  staggered  to  her  feet  and  stood  beat 
ing  her  hands  together,  as  was  her  way  when  per 
turbed.  "What  have  I  done!" 

"Threlka !"  I  heard  her  call,  half  chokingly.  The 
old  servant  came  hurriedly. 

"Wine,  tea,  anything,  Threlka!"  She  dropped 
down  again  opposite  me,  panting,  and  looking  at  me 
with  wide  eyes. 

"Tell  me,  do  you  know  what  you  have  said?"  she 
began. 

"No,  Madam.  I  grieve  if  I  have  caused  you  any 
oain."  • 

"Well,  then,  you  are  noble;  when  look,  what  pain 
1  have  caused  you  !  Yet  not  more  than  myself.  No, 
not  so  much.  I  hope  not  so  much !" 

Truly  there  is  thought  which  passes  from  mind  to 
mind.  Suddenly  the  thing  in  her  mind  sped  across 


276     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

to  mine.     I  looked  at  her  suddenly,  in  my  eyes 
perhaps,  the  horror  which  I  felt. 

"It  was  you!"  I  exclaimed.  "It  was  you!  Aht 
now  I  begin  to  understand  !  How  could  you  ?  You 
parted  us  !  You  parted  me  from  Elisabeth  !" 

"Yes,"  she  said  regretfully,  "I  did  it  It  was  my 
fault." 

I  rose  and  drew  apart  from  her,  unable  to  speak. 
She  went  on. 

"But  I  was  not  then  as  I  am  now.  See,  I  w,as  em 
bittered,  reckless,  desperate.  I  was  only  beginning 
to  think — I  only  wanted  time.  I  did  not  really  mean 
to  do  all  this.  I  only  thought —  Why,  I  had  not 
yet  known  you  a  day  nor  her  an  hour.  'Twas  all  no 
more  than  half  ,a  jest." 

"How  could  you  do  it?"  I  demanded.  "Yet  that 
is  no  more  strange.  How  did  you  do  it?" 

"At  the  door,  that  first  night.  I  was  mad  then 
over  the  wrong  done  to  what  little  womanhood  I 
could  claim  for  my  own.  I  hated  Yturrio.  I  hated 
Pakenham.  They  had  both  insulted  me.  I  hated 
every  man.  I  had  seen  nothing  but  the  bitter  and 
desperate  side  of  life — I  was  eager  to  take  revenge 
even  upon  the  innocent  ones  of  this  world,  seeing 
that  I  had  suffered  so  much.  I  had  an  old  grudge 
against  women,  against  women,  I  say — against 
women!" 

She  buried  her  face  in  her  hands.    I  saw  her  eyes 


IN   THE  CABIN   OF   MADAM       277 

tto  more  till  Threlka  came  and  lifted  her  head,  offer 
ing  her  a  cup  of  drink,  and  so  standing  patiently 
uutil  again  she  had  dismissal. 

"But  still  it  is  all  a  puzzle  to  me.  Madam/*  J  be 
gan.     "I  do  not  understand," 

"Well,  when  you  stood  at  the  door*  my  little  she* 
in  your  pocket,  when  you  kissed  my  hand  that  first 
night,  when  you  told  me  what  you  would  do  did  you 
love  a  woman — when  I  saw  something  new  in  life  I 
had  not  seen — why,  then,  in  the  devil's  resolution 
that  no  woman  in  the  world  should  be  happy  if  I 
could  help  it,  I  slipped  in  the  body  of  the  slipper  a 
little  line  or  so  that  I  had  written  when  you  did  not 
see,  when  I  was  in  the  other  room,  'Twas  that  took 
the  place  of  Van  Zandt's  message,  after  all  I  Mon 
sieur,  it  was  fate.  Van  Zandt's  letter,  without  plan, 
fell  out  on  my  table,  Your  note,  sent  by  plan,  re« 
mained  in  the  shoe!" 

"And  what  did  it  say?     Tell  me  at  once." 

*  'Very  little,  Yet  enou  gh  for  a  woman  who  loved 
and  who  expected,  Only  this:  "In  spite  of  that 
other  woman*  come  to  me  still.  Who  can  teach  yon 
love  of  woman  as  can  I  ?  Helena*  I  think  it  was 
tome  such  words  as  those.** 

I  looked  at  her  in  silence, 

"You  did  not  see  that  note?'*  she  demanded. 
"After  all,  at  first  I  meant  it  only  for^z*.  I  wanted 
to  see  you  again.  I  did  not  want  to  lose  you.  Ah, 


278     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

God !  I  was  so  lonely,  so — so — I  can  not  say,  15 ut 
vou  did  not  find  my  message?" 

I  shook  my  head.  "No,"  I  said,  "I  did  not  look  in 
the  slipper.  I  do  not  think  my  friend  did." 

"But  she—that  girl,  did!" 

"How  could  she  have  believed?" 

"Ah,  grand!  I  reverence  your  faith.  But  she 
is  a  woman !  She  loved  you  and  expected  you  thai 
hour,  I  say.  Thus  comes  the  shock  of  finding  you 
untrue,  of  finding  you  at  least  ,a  common  man,  after 
all.  She  is  a  woman.  'Tis  the  same  fight,  all  the 
centuries,  after  all!  Well,  I  did  that" 

"You  ruined  the  lives  of  two,  neither  of  whom 
had  ever  harmed  you,  Madam." 

"What  is  it  to  the  tree  which  consumes  another 
tree — the  flower  which  devours  its  neighbor?  Was 
it  not  life?" 

''You  had  never  seen  Elisabeth." 

"Not  until  the  next  morning,  no.  Then  I  thought 
still  on  what  you  had  said.  I  envied  her — I  say,  I 
coveted  the  happiness  of  you  both.  What  had  the 
world  ever  given  me?  What  had  I  done — what  had 
I  been — what  could  I  ever  be?  Your  messenger 
came  back  with  the  slipper.  The  note  was  in  the 
shoe  untouched.  Your  messenger  had  not  found  it, 
either.  See,  I  did  mean  it  for  you  alone.  But  now 
some  sudden  thought  came  to  me.  I  tucked  it  back 
and  sent  your  drunken  friend  away  with  it  for  her 


IN    THE    CABIN    OF    MADAM       279 

—where  I  knew  it  would  be  found !  I  did  not  know 
what  would  be  the  result.  I  was  only  desperate  ovei 
what  life  had  done  to  me.  I  wanted  to  get  out — 
out  into  a  wider  and  brighter  world." 

"Ah,  Madam,  and  was  so  mean  a  key  as  this  to 
open  that  world  for  you  ?  Now  we  all  three  wander, 
outside  that  world." 

"No,  it  opened  no  new  world  for  me,"  she  said. 
"I  was  not  meant  for  that.  But  at  least,  I  only  acted 
as  I  have  been  treated  all  my  life.  I  knew  no  better 
then." 

"I  had  not  thought  any  one  capable  of  that," 
said  I. 

"Ah,  but  I  repented  on  the  instant!  I  repented 
before  night  came.  In  the  twilight  I  got  upon  my 
knees  and  prayed  that  all  my  plan  might  go  wrong 
— if  I  could  call  it  plan.  'Now/  I  said,  as  the  hour 
approached,  'they  are  before  the  priest;  they  stand 
there — she  in  white,  perhaps;  he  tall  and  grave. 
Their  hands  are  clasped  each  in  that  of  the  other. 
They  are  saying  those  tremendous  words  which  may 
perhaps  mean  so  much.'  Thus  I  ran  on  to  myself. 
I  say  I  followed  you  through  the  hour  of  that  cere 
mony.  I  swore  with  her  vows,  I  pledged  with  hef 
pledge,  promised  with  her  promise.  Yes,  yes — yes, 
though  I  prayed  that,  after  all,  I  might  lose,  that  I 
might  pay  back;  that  I  might  some  time  have  op 
portunity  to  atone  for  my  own  wickedness !  Ah !  I 


280     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

was  only  a  woman.  The  strongest  of  women  are 
weak  sometimes. 

"Well,  then,  my  friend,  I  have  paid.  I  thank  God 
that  I  failed  then  to  make  another  wretched  as  my« 
self.  It  was  only  I  who  again  was  wretched.  Ah! 
is  there  no  little  pity  in  your  heart  for  me,  after  all  ? 
*— who  succeeded  only  to  fail  so  miserably?" 

But  again  I  could  only  turn  away  to  ponder. 

"See,"  she  went  on ;  "for  myself,  this  is  irremedi 
able,  but  it  is  not  so  for  you,  nor  for  her.  It  is  not 
&>o  ill  to  be  made  right  again.  There  in  Montreal, 
I  thought  that  I  had  failed  in  my  plan,  that  you  in 
deed  were  married.  You  held  yourself  well  in 
hand;  like  a  man,  Monsieur.  But  as  to  that,  you 
were  married,  for  your  love  for  her  remained ;  your 
pledge  held.  And  did  not  I,  repenting,  marry  you 
to  her — did  not  I,  on  my  knees,  marry  you  to  her 
that  night?  Oh,  do  not  blame  me  too  much !" 

"She  should  not  have  doubted,"  said  I.  "I  shall 
not  go  back  and  ask  her  again.  The  weakest  of  men 
are  strong  sometimes !" 

"Ah,  now  you  are  but  a  man !  Being  such,  you 
can  not  understand  how  terribly  much  the  faith  of 
man  means  for  a  woman.  It  was  her  need  for  you 
that  spoke,  not  her  doubt  of  you.  Forgive  her.  She 
was  not  to  blame.  Blame  me!  Do  what  you  like  to 
punish  me!  Now,  I  shall  make  amends.  Tell  me 


IM    THE    CABIN    OF    MADAM        281 

what  I  best  may  do.    Shall  I  go  to  her,  shall  I  tell 
her?" 

"Not  as  my  messenger.    Not  for  me." 

"No?  Well,  then,  for  myself?  That  is  my  right. 
I  shall  tell  her  how  priestly  faithful  a  man  you 
were." 

I  walked  to  her,  took  her  arms  in  my  hands  and 
raised  her  to  my  level,  looking  into  her  eyes. 

"Madam,"  I  said,  "God  knows,  I  am  no  priest  I 
deserve  no  credit.  It  w-as  chance  that  cast  Elisabeth 
and  me  together  before  ever  I  saw  you.  I  told  you 
one  fire  was  lit  in  my  heart  and  had  left  room  for  no 
other.  I  meet  youth  and  life  with  all  that  there  is 
in  youth,  and  life.  I  am  no  priest,  and  ask  you  not 
to  confess  with  me.  We  both  should  confess  to  our 
own  souls." 

"It  is  as  I  said,"  she  went  on;  "you  were  mar 
ried!" 

"Well,  then,  call  it  so — married  after  my  fashion 
of  marriage;  the  fashion  of  which  I  told  you,  of  a 
cabin  and  a  bed  of  husks.  As  to  what  you  have  said, 
I  forget  it,  I  have  not  heard  it.  Your  sort  could 
have  no  heart  beat  for  one  like  me.  JTis  men  like 
myself  are  slaves  to  women  such  as  you.  You  could 
never  have  cared  for  me,  and  never  did.  What  you 
loved,  Madam,  was  only  what  you  had  lost,  was  only 
what  you  saw  in  this  country — was  only  what  this 


282     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

country  means !  Your  past  life,  of  course,  I  do  r  3t 
know." 

"Sometime,"  she  murmured,  "I  will  tell  you." 

"Whatever  it  was,  Madam,  you  have  been  a  bril* 
liant  woman,  a  power  in  affairs.  Yes,  and  an  enig» 
ma,  and  to  none  more  than  to  yourself.  You  show 
that  now.  You  only  loved  what  Elisabeth  loved. 
As  woman,  then,  you  were  born  for  the  first  time, 
touched  by  that  throb  of  her  heart,  not  your  own. 
'Twas  mere  accident  I  was  there  to  feel  that  throb, 
as  sweet  as  it  was  innocent  You  were  not  woman 
yet,  you  were  but  a  child.  You  had  not  then  chosen. 
You  have  yet  to  choose.  It  was  Love  that  you  loved ! 
Perhaps,  after  all,  it  was  America  you  loved.  You 
began  to  see,  as  you  say,  a  wider  and  a  sweeter 
world  than  you  had  known." 

She  nodded  now,  endeavoring  to  smile. 

"Gentilhomme!"  I  heard  her  murmur. 

"So  then  I  go  on,  Madam,  and  say  we  are  the 
same.  I  am  the  agent  of  one  idea,  you  of  another. 
I  ask  you  once  more  to  choose.  I  know  how  you  will 
choose." 

She  went  on,  musing  to  herself.  "Yes,  there  is  a 
gulf  between  male  and  female,  after  all.  As  though 
what  he  said  could  be  true!  Listen!"  She  spoke 
up  more  sharply.  "If  results  came  as  you  liked, 
what  difference  would  the  motives  make?" 

"How  do  you  mean?" 


IN   THE    CABIN    OF    MADAM        283 

"Only  this,  Monsieur,  that  I  am  not  so  lofty  as 
you  think.  I  might  do  something.  If  so,  'twould 
need  to  be  through  some  motive  wholly  sufficient  to 
myself." 

"Search,  then,  your  own  conscience." 

"I  have  one,  after  all !  It  might  say  something  to* 
me,  yes." 

"Once  you  said  to  me  that  the  noblest  thing  in  life 
was  to  pass  on  the  torch  of  a  great  principle." 

"I  lied!  I  lied!"  she  cried,  beating  her  hands  to*. 
gether.  "I  am  a  woman  !  Look  at  me!" 

She  threw  back  her  shoulders,  standing  straight 
and  fearless.  God  wot,  she  was  a  woman.  Curves 
and  flame !  Yes,  she  was  a  woman.  White  flesh  and 
slumbering  hair !  Yes,  she  was  a  woman.  Round 
flesh  and  the  red-flecked  purple  scent  arising!  Yes, 
she  was  a  woman.  Torture  of  joy  to  hold  in  a  man's 
arms !  Yes,  she  was  a  woman  ! 

"How,  then,  could  I  believe" — she  laid  a  hand 
upon  her  bosom — "how,  then,  could  I  believe  that 
principle  was  more  than  life?  It  is  for  you,  a  man, 
to  believe  that.  Yet  even  you  will  not.  You  leave 
it  to  me,  and  I  answer  that  I  will  not !  What  I  did 
I  did,  and  I  bargain  with  none  over  that  now.  I  pay 
my  wagers.  I  make  my  own  reasons,  too.  If  I  do 
anything  for  the  sake  of  this  country,  it  will  not  be 
through  altruism,  not  through  love  of  principle! 
'Twill  be  because  I  am  a  woman.  Yes,  once  I  was  a 


284     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

girl.  Once  I  was  born.  Once,  even,  I  had  a  mother, 
and  was  loved!" 

I  could  make  no  answer;  but  presently  she 
changed  again,  swift  as  the  sky  when  some  cloud  is 
swept  away  in  a  strong  gust  of  wind. 

''Come,"  she  said,  "I  will  bargain  with  you,  after 
all!" 

"Any  bargain  you  like,  Madam." 

"And  I  will  keep  my  bargain.  You  know  that  I 
will." 

"Yes,  I  know  that." 

"Very  well,  then.  I  am  going  back  to  Washing 
ton." 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"By  land,  across  the  country ;  the  way  you  came." 

"You  do  not  know  what  you  say,  Madam.  The 
journey  you  suggest  is  incredible,  impossible." 

"That  matters  nothing.  I  am  going.  And  I  am 
going  alone —  No,  you  can  not  come  with  me.  Do 
you  think  I  would  risk  more  than  I  have  risked?  I 
go  alone.  I  am  England's  spy ;  yes,  that  is  true.  I 
am  to  report  to  England ;  yes,  that  is  true.  There 
fore,  the  more  I  see,  the  more  I  shall  have  to  report. 
i Besides,  I  have  something  else  to  do." 

"But  would  Mr.  Pakenham  listen  to  your  report, 
after  all?" 

Now  she  hesitated  for  a  moment.  "I  can  induce 
him  to  listen,"  she  said.  "That  is  part  of  my  errand. 


IN   THE    CABIN    OF    MADAM        285 

First,  before  I  see  Mr.  Pakenham  I  am  going  to  see 
Miss  Elisabeth  Churchill.  I  shall  report  also  to  her. 
Then  I  shall  have  done  my  duty.  Is  it  not  so?" 

"You  could  do  no  more,"  said  I.  "But  what  bar 
gain—" 

"Listen.  If  she  uses  me  ill  and  will  not  believe 
either  you  or  me — then,  being  a  woman,  I  shall  hate 
her;  and  in  that  case  I  shall  go  to  Sir  Richard  for 
my  own  revenge.  I  shall  tell  him  to  bring  on  this 
war.  In  that  case,  Oregon  will  be  lost  to  you,  or  at 
least  bought  dear  by  blood  and  treasure." 

"We  can  attend  to  that,  Madam,"  said  I  grimly, 
and  I  smiled  at  her,  although  a  sudden  fear  caught 
at  my  heart.  I  knew  what  damage  she  was  in  posi 
tion  to  accomplish  if  she  liked.  My  heart  stood  still. 
I  felt  the  faint  sweat  again  on  my  forehead. 

"If  I  do  not  find  her  worthy  of  you,  then  she  can 
not  have  you,"  went  on  Helena  vo*i  Ritz. 

"But  Madam,  you  forget  one  thing.  She  is  wor 
thy  of  me,  or  of  any  other  man !" 

"I  shall  be  judge  of  that.  If  she  is  what  you 
think,  you  shall  have  her — and  Oregon !" 

"But  as  to  myself,  Madam  ?    The  bargain  ?" 

"I  arrive,  Monsieur!  If  she  fails  you,  then  I  ask 
only  time.  I  have  said  to  you  I  am  a  woman !" 

"Madam,"  I  said  to  her  once  more,  "who  are  you 
And  what  are  you  ?" 

In  answer,  she  looked  me  once  more  straight  10 


286    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

the  face.  "Some  day,  back  there,  after  I  have  made 
my  journey,  I  shall  tell  you." 

'Tell  me  now." 

"I  shall  tell  you  nothing.  I  am  not  a  little  girl. 
There  is  a  bargain  which  I  offer,  and  the  only  one  I 
shall  offer.  It  is  a  gamble.  I  have  gambled  all  my 
life.  If  you  will  not  accord  me  so  remote  a  chance 
as  this,  why,  then,  I  shall  take  it  in  any  case." 

"I  begin  to  see,  Madam,"  said  I,  "how  large  these 
stakes  may  run." 

r"In  case  I  lose,  be  sure  at  least  I  shall  pay.  I  shall 
make  my  atonement,"  she  said. 

"I  doubt  not  that,  Madam,  with  all  your  heart 
and  mind  and  soul." 

"And  body!"  she  whispered.  The  old  horror 
came  again  upon  her  face.  She  shuddered,  I  did 
not  know  why.  She  stood  now  as  one  in  devotions 
for  a  time,  and  I  would  no  more  have  spoken  than 
had  she  been  at  her  prayers,  as,  indeed,  I  think  she 
was.  At  last  she  made  some  faint  movement  of  her 
hands.  I  do  not  know  whether  it  was  the  sign  of 
the  cross. 

She  rose  now,  tall,  white-clad,  shimmering,  a 
vision  of  beauty  such  as  that  part  of  the  world  cer 
tainly  could  not  then  offer.  Her  hair  was  loosened 
now  in  its  masses  and  drooped  more  widely  over  her 
temples,  above  her  brow.  Her  eyes  were  very  large 
and  dark,  and  I  saw  the  faint  blue  shadows  coming 


IN    THE    CABIN    OF    MADAM        287 

again  beneath  them.  Her  hands  were  clasped,  her 
chin  raised  just  a  trifle,  and  her  gaze  was  rapt  as 
that  of  some  longing  soul.  I  could  not  guess  of 
these  things,  being  but  a  man,  and,  I  fear,  clumsy 
alike  of  body  and  wit 

"There  is  one  thing,  Madam,  which  we  have 
omitted/'  said  I  at  last.  "What  are  my  stakes? 
How  may  I  pay?" 

She  swayed  a  little  on  her  feet,  as  though  she 
were  weak.  "I  want,"  said  she,  "I  wish — I  wish — " 

The  old  childlike  look  of  pathos  came  again.  I 
have  never  seen  so  sad  a  face.  She  was  a  lady,  white 
and  delicately  clad;  I,  a  rude  frontiersman  in  camp- 
grimed  leather.  But  I  stepped  to  her  now  and  took 
her  in  my  arms  and  held  her  close,  and  pushed  back 
the  damp  waves  of  her  hair.  And  because  a  man's 
tears  were  in  my  eyes,  I  have  no  doubt  of  absolution 
when  I  say  I  had  been  a  cad  and  a  coward  had  I  not 
kissed  her  own  tears  away.  I  no  longer  made  pre 
tense  of  ignorance,  but  ah !  how  I  wished  that  I  were 
ignorant  of  what  it  was  not  my  right  to  know.  .  .  . 

I  led  her  to  the  edge  of  the  little  bed  of  husks  and 
found  her  kerchief.  Ah,  she  was  of  breeding  and 
courage !  Presently,  her  voice  rose  steady  and  clear; 
as  ever.  "Threlka!"  she  called.  "Please!" 

When  Threlka  came,  she  looked  closely  at  her 
lady's  face,  and  what  she  read  seemed,  after  all,  to 
content  her. 


288     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

"Threlka,"  said  my  lady  in  French,  "I  want  the 
little  one." 

I  turned  to  her  with  query  in  my  eyes. 

"Tiens!"  she  said.  "Wait.  I  have  a  little  sur 
prise." 

"You  have  nothing  at  any  time  save  surprises^ 
Madam." 

"Two  things  I  have,"  said  she,  sighing:  "a  little 
dog  from  China,  Chow  by  name.  He  sleeps  now, 
and  I  must  not  disturb  him,  else  I  would  show  you 
how  lovely  a  dog  is  Chow.  Also  here  I  have  found 
a  little  Indian  child  running  about  the  post.  Doctor 
McLaughlin  was  rejoiced  when  I  adopted  her." 

"Well,  then,  Madam,  what  next!" 

— "Yes,  with  the  promise  to  him  that  I  would  care 
for  that  little  child.  I  want  something  for  my  own. 
See  now.  Come,  Natoka !" 

The  old  servant  paused  at  the  door.  There  slid 
across  the  floor  with  the  silent  feet  of  the  savage  the 
tiny  figure  of  a  little  child,  perhaps  four  years  of  age, 
with  coal-black  hair  and  beady  eyes,  clad  in  all  the 
bequilled  finery  that  a  trading-post  could  furnish- — a 
little  orphan  child,  as  I  learned  later,  whose  parents 
had  both  been  lost  in  a  canoe  accident  at  the  Dalles. 
She  was  an  infant,  wild,  untrained,  unloved,  unable 
to  speak  a  word  of  the  language  that  she  heard.  She 
stood  now  hesitating,  but  that  was  only  by  reason  of 
her  sight  of  me.  As  I  stepped  aside,  the  little  one 


IN   THE    CABIN    OF    MADAM        28* 

walked  steadily  but  with  quickening  steps  to  my 
satin-clad  lady  on  her  couch  of  husks.  She  took  up 
the  child  in  her  arms.  .  .  .  Now,  there  must  be 
some  speech  between  woman  and  child-  I  do  not 
know,  except  that  the  Baroness  von  Ritz  spoke  and 
that  the  child  put  out  a  hand  to  her  cheek.  Then,  as 
I  stood  awkward  as  a  clown  myself  and  not  knowing 
what  to  do,  I  saw  tears  rain  again  from  the  eyes  of 
Helena  von  Ritz,  so  that  I  turned  away,  even  as  I 
saw  her  cheek  laid  to  that  of  the  child  while  she 
clasped  it  tight. 

"Monsieur !"  I  heard  her  say  at  last. 

I  did  not  answer.  I  was  learning  a  bit  of  life  my  * 
self  this  night.  I  was  years  older  than  when  I  had 
come  through  that  door. 

"Monsieur!"  I  heard  her  call  yet  again. 

"Eh  bien,  Madam?"  I  replied,  lightly  as  I  could, 
and  so  turned,  giving  her  all  possible  time.  I  saw 
her  holding  the  Indian  child  out  in  front  of  her  in 
her  strong  young  arms,  lightly  as  though  the  weight 
were  nothing. 

"See,  then,"  she  said;  "here  is  my  companion 
across  the  mountains." 

Again  I  began  to  expostulate,  but  now  she  tapped 
her  foot  impatiently  in  her  old  way.  "You  have 
heard  me  say  it.  Very  well.  Follow  if  you  like. 
Listen  also  if  you  like.  In  a  day  or  so,  Doctor  Mc- 
Laughlin  plans  a  party  for  us  all  far  up  the  Coluro- 


290     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

bia  to  the  missions  at  Wailatpu.  That  is  in  the  val 
ley  of  the  Walla  Walla,  they  tell  me,  just  at  this 
edge  of  the  Blue  Mountains,  where  the  wagon  trains 
come  down  into  this  part  of  Oregon." 

"They  may  not  see  the  wagon  trains  so  soon,"  1 
ventured.  "They  would  scarcely  arrive  before  Oc 
tober,  and  now  it  is  but  summer." 

"At  least,  these  British  officers  would  see  a  part  of 
this  country,  do  you  not  comprehend?  We  start 
within  three  days  at  least  I  wish  only  to  say  that 
perhaps — " 

"Ah,  I  will  be  there  surely,  Madam !" 

"If  you  come  independently.  I  have  heard,  how 
ever,  that  one  of  the  missionary  women  wishes  to  go 
back  to  the  States.  I  have  thought  that  perhaps  it 
might  be  better  did  we  go  together.  Also  Natoka, 
Also  Chow." 

"Does  Doctor  McLaughlin  know  of  your  plans?" 

"I  am  not  under  his  orders,  Monsieur.  I  only, 
thought  that,  since  you  were  used  to  this  western 
travel,  you  could,  perhaps,  be  of  aid  in  getting  me 
proper  guides  and  vehicles.  I  should  rely  upon  your 
judgment  very  much,  Monsieur." 

"You  are  asking  me  to  aid  you  in  your  own  folly," 
said  I  discontentedly,  "but  I  will  be  there;  and  be 
sure  also  you  can  not  prevent  me  from  following — if 
you  persist  in  this  absolute  folly.  A  woman — to 
cross  the  Rockies !" 


IN    THE    CABIN    OF    MADAM        291 

I  rose  now,  and  she  was  gracious  enough  to  follow 
me  part  way  toward  the  door.  We  hesitated  there, 
awkwardly  enough.  But  once  mdre  our  hands  met 
in  some  sort  of  fellowship. 

"Forget !"  I  heard  her  whisper.  And  I  could  think 
of  no  reply  better  than  that  same  word. 

I  turned  as  the  door  swung  for  me  to  pass  out  into 
the  night  I  saw  her  outlined  against  the  lights 
within,  tall  and  white,  in  her  arms  the  Indian  child, 
whose  cheek  was  pressed  to  her  own.  I  do  not  con 
cern  myself  with  what  others  may  say  of  conduct  or 
of  constancy.  To  me  it  seemed  that,  had  I  not  made 
my  homage,  my  reverence,  to  one  after  all  so  brave 
as  she,  I  would  not  be  worthy  the  cover  of  that  flag 
which  to-day  floats  both  on  the  Columbia  and  the 
Rio  Grande. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

WHEN   A  WOMAN   WOULD 

The  two  pleasantest  days  of  a  woman  are  her  marriage  daj 
and  the  day  of  her  funeral.— Hipponax. 

MY  garden  at  the  Willamette  might  languish 
if  it  liked,  and  my  little  cabin  might  stand 
in  uncut  wheat  For  me,  there  were  other 
matters  of  more  importance  now.  I  took  leave  of 
hospitable  Doctor  McLaughlin  at  Fort  Vancouver 
with  proper  expressions  of  the  obligation  due  for  his 
hospitality ;  but  I  said  nothing  to  him,  of  course,  of 
having  met  the  mysterious  baroness,  nor  did  I  men 
tion  definitely  that  I  intended  to  meet  them  both 
again  at  no  distant  date.  None  the  less,  I  prepared 
to  set  out  at  once  up  the  Columbia  River  trail. 

From  Fort  Vancouver  to  the  missions  at  Wailatpu 
was  a  distance  by  trail  of  more  than  two  hundred 
miles.  This  I  covered  horseback,  rapidly,  and  ar 
rived  two  or  three  days  in  advance  of  the  English. 
Nothing  disturbed  the  quiet  until,  before  noon  o^ 
one  day,  we  heard  the  gun  fire  and  the  shoutings 
which  in  that  country  customarily  made  announce 
ment  of  the  arrival  of  a  party  of  travelers.  Being 

292 


WHEN   A  WOMAN  WOULD          293 

on  the  lookout  for  these,  I  soon  discovered  them  to 
be  my  late  friends  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Post. 

One  old  brown  woman,  unhappily  astride  a  native 
pony,  I  took  to  be  Threlka,  my  lady's  servant,  but 
she  rode  with  her  class,  at  the  rear.  I  looked  again, 
until  I  found  the  baroness,  clad  in  buckskins  and 
blue  cloth,  brave  as  any  in  finery  of  the  frontier. 
Doctor  McLaughlin  saw  fit  to  present  us  formally, 
or  rather  carelessly,  it  not  seeming  to  him  that  two 
so  different  would  meet  often  in  the  future;  and  of 
course  there  being  no  dream  even  in  his  shrewd 
mind  that  we  had  ever  met  in  the  past.  This  sup 
position  fitted  our  plans,  even  though  it  kept  us 
apart.  I  was  but  a  common  emigrant  farmer,  camp 
ing  like  my  kind.  She,  being  of  distinction,  dwelt 
with  the  Hudson  Bay  party  in  the  mission  build 
ings. 

We  lived  on  here  for  a  week,  visiting  back  and 
forth  in  amity)  as  I  must  say.  I  grew  to  like  well 
enough  those  blunt  young  fellows  of  the  Navy. 
With  young  Lieutenant  Peel  especially  I  struck  up 
something  of  a  friendship.  If  he  remained  hope 
lessly  British,  at  least  I  presume  I  remained  quite  as 
hopelessly  American;  so  that  we  came  to  set  aside 
the  topic  of  conversation  on  which  we  could  not 
agree. 

"There  is  something  about  which  you  don't 
know,"  he  said  to  me.  one  evening.  "I  am  wholljr 


294    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

unacquainted  with  the  interior  of  your  country. 
What  would  you  say,  for  instance,  regarding  its 
safety  for  a  lady  traveling  across — a  small  party, 
you  know,  of  her  own?  I  presume  of  course  you 
know  whom  I  mean  ?" 

I  nodded.  "You  must  mean  the  Baroness  von 
Ritz." 

"Yes.  She  has  been  traveling  abroad.  Of  course 
we  took  such  care  of  her  on  shipboard  as  we  could, 
although  a  lady  has  no  place  on  bo.ard  a  warship. 
She  had  with  her  complete  furnishings  for  a  suite  of 
apartments,  and  these  were  delivered  ashore  at  Fort 
Vancouver.  Doctor  McLaughlin  gave  her  quarters. 
Of  course  you  do  not  know  anything  of  this?" 

I  allowed  him  to  proceed. 

"Well,  she  has  told  us  calmly  that  she  plans  cross 
ing  this  country  from  here  to  the  Eastern  States!" 

"That  could  not  possibly  be!"  I  declared. 

"Quite  so.  The  old  trappers  tell  me  that  the 
mountains  are  impassable  even  in  the  fall.  They  say 
that  unless  she  met  some  west-bound  train  and  came 
back  with  it,  the  chance  would  be  that  she  would 
never  be  heard  of  again." 

"You  have  personal  interest  in  this?"  I  inter- 
rupted. 

He  nodded,  flushing  a  little.  "Awfully  so,"  said 
be. 


WHEN   A  WOMAN  WOULD          295 

"I  would  have  the  right  to  guess  you  were  hit 
pretty  hard?" 

"To  the  extent  of  asking  her  to  become  my  wife!" 
said  he  firmly,  although  his  fair  face  flushed  again. 

"You  do  not  in  the  least  know  her,"  he  went  on. 
"In  my  case,  I  have  done  my  turn  at  living,  and  have 
seen  my  share  of  women,  but  never  her  like  in  any 
part  of  the  world !  So  when  she  proposed  to  make 
this  absurd  journey,  I  offered  to  go  with  her.  It 
meant  of  course  my  desertion  from  the  Navy,  and 
so  I  told  her.  She  would  not  listen  to  it.  She  gives 
me  no  footing  which  leaves  it  possible  for  me  to 
accompany  her  or  to  follow  her.  Frankly,  I  do  not 
know  what  to  do." 

"It  seems  to  me,  Lieutenant  Peel,"  I  ventured, 
"that  the  most  sensible  thing  in  the  world  for  us  to 
do  is  to  get  together  an  expedition  to  follow  her." 

He  caught  me  by  the  hand.  "You  do  not  tell  me 
you  would  do  that?" 

"It  seems  a  duty." 

"But  could  you  yourself  get  through?" 

"As  to  that,  no  one  can  tell.  I  did  so  coming 
west." 

He  sat  silent  for  a  time.  "It  will  be  the  last  I 
shall  ever  see  of  her  in  any  case,"  said  he,  at  length. 
"We  don't  know  how  long  it  will  be  before  we  leave 
the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  and  then  I  could  not 


>96    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

count  on  finding  her.  You  do  not  think  me  a  fool 
for  telling  you  what  I  have?" 

"No,"  said  I.  "I  do  not  blame  you  for  being  a 
,ool.  All  men  who  are  men  are  fools  over  women, 
;«e  time  or  other." 

"Good  luck  to  you,  then!  Now,  what  shall  we 
ao?" 

"In  the  first  place,"  said  I,  "if  she  insists  upon  go 
ing,  let  us  give  her  every  possible  chance  for  suc 
cess." 

"It  looks  an  awfully  slender  chance,"  he  sighed. 
"You  will  follow  as  close  on  their  heels  as  you  can?" 

"Of  that  you  may  rest  assured." 

"What  is  the  distance,  do  you  think?" 

"Two  thousand  miles  at  least,  before  she  could  be 
.safe.  She  could  not  hope  to  cover  more  than  twenty - 
£ve  miles  a  day,  many  days  not  so  much  as  that  To 
be  sure,  there  might  be  such  a  thing  as  her  meeting 
wagons  coming  out ;  and,  as  you  say,  she  might  re 
turn." 

"You  do  not  know  her!"  said  he.  "She  will  not 
turn  back." 

*  had  full  reason  to  agree  with  him. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

IN   EXCHANGE 

Great  women  belong  to  history  and  to  self-sacrifice. 

— Leigh  Runt. 

FOR  sufficient  reasons  of  my  own,  which  have 
been  explained,  I  did  not  care  to  mingle 
more  than  was  necessary  with  the  party  of 
the  Hudson  Bay  folk  who  made  their  quarters  with 
the  missionary  families.  I  kept  close  to  my  own 
camp  when  not  busy  with  my  inquiries  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  where  I  now  began  to  see  what  could  be 
done  in  the  preparation  of  a  proper  outfit  for  the 
baroness.  Herself  I  did  not  see  for  the  next  two 
days ;  but  one  evening  I  met  her  on  the  narrow  log 
gallery  of  one  of  the  mission  houses.  Without  much 
speech  we  sat  and  looked  over  the  pleasant  prospect 
of  the  wide  flats,  the  fringe  of  willow  trees,  the  loom 
of  the  mountains  off  toward  the  east. 

"Continually  you  surprise  me,  Madam,"  I  began;> 
at  last.  "Can  we  not  persuade  you  to  abandon  this 
foolish  plan  of  your  going  east?" 

"I  see  no  reason  for  abandoning  it,"  said  she; 
'"There  are  some  thousands  of  your  people, 

297, 


298    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

women  and  children,  who  have  crossed  that  trail. 
Why  should  not  I  ?" 

"But  they  come  in  large  parties;  they  come  well 
prepared.  Each  helps  his  neighbor." 

"The  distance  is  the  same,  and  the  method  is  the 
same." 

I  ceased  to  argue,  seeing  that  she  would  not  be 
persuaded.  "At  least,  Madam/'  said  I,  "I  have 
done  what  little  I  could  in  securing  you  a  party. 
You  are  to  have  eight  mules,  two  carts,  six  horses, 
and  two  men,  beside  old  Joe  Meek,  the  best  guide 
now  in  Oregon.  He  would  not  go  to  save  his  life. 
He  goes  to  save  yours." 

"You  are  always  efficient,"  said  she.  "But  why  is 
it  that  we  .always  have  some  unpleasant  argument? 
Come,  let  us  have  tea!" 

"Many  teas  together,  Madam,  if  you  would  listen 
So  me.  Many  a  pot  brewed  deep  and  black  by  scores 
of  camp-fires." 

"Fie!   Monsieur  proposes  a  scandal." 

"No,  Monsieur  proposes  only  a  journey  to  Wash 
ington — with  you,  or  close  after  you." 

"Of  course  I  can  not  prevent  your  following," 
she  said. 

"Leave  it  so.  But  as  to  pledges — at  least  I  want  to 
keep  my  little  slipper.  Is  Madam's  wardrobe  with 
her?  Could  she  humor  a  peevish  friend  so  much  as 
that?  Come,  now,  I  will  make  fair  exchange.  I  will 


IN    EXCHANGE  299 

trade  you  .again  my  blanket  clasp  for  that  one  little 
shoe!" 

I  felt  in  the  pocket  of  my  coat,  and  held  out  in  my 
hand  the  remnants  of  the  same  little  Indian  orna 
ment  which  had  figured  between  us  the  first  night  we 
had  met.  She  grasped  at  it  eagerly,  turning  it  over 
in  her  hand. 

"But  see,"  she  said,  "one  of  the  clasps  is  gone." 

"Yes,  I  parted  with  it  But  come,  do  I  have  my 
little  slipper?" 

"Wait!"  said  she,  and  left  me  for  a  moment.  Pres 
ently  she  returned,  laughing,  with  the  little  white 
satin  foot  covering  in  her  hand. 

"I  warrant  it  is  the  only  thing  of  the  sort  ever  was 
seen  in  these  buildings,"  she  went  on.  "Alas !  I  fear 
I  must  leave  most  of  my  possessions  here!  I  have 
already  disposed  of  the  furnishings  of  my  apart 
ment  to  Mr.  James  Douglas  at  Fort  Vancouver.  I 
hear  he  is  to  replace  this  good  Doctor  McLaughlin. 
Well,  his  half-breed  wife  will  at  least  have  good  set 
ting  up  for  her  household.  Tell  me,  now,"  she 
concluded,  "what  became  of  the  other  shell  from  this 
clasp?" 

"I  gave  it  to  an  old  man  in  Montreal,"  I  answered. 
I  went  on  to  show  her  the  nature  of  the  device,  as  it 
had  been  explained  to  me  by  old  Doctor  von  Ritten- 
hofen. 

"How  curious!"  she  mused,  as  it  became  more 


300    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

plain  to  her.  "Life,  love,  eternity!  The  beginning 
and  the  end  of  all  this  turmoil  about  passing  on  the 
torch  of  life.  It  is  old,  old,  is  it  not?  Tell  me,  who 
was  the  wise  man  who  described  all  this  to  you  ?" 

"Not  a  stranger  to  this  very  country,  I  imagine," 
was  my  answer.  "He  spent  some  years  here  in  Ore* 
gon  with  the  missionaries,  engaged,  as  he  informed 
me,  in  classifying  the  butterflies  of  this  new  region. 
A  German  scientist,  I  think,  and  seemingly  a  man 
of  breeding." 

"If  I  were  left  to  guess,"  she  broke  out  suddenly, 
"I  would  say  it  must  have  been  this  same  old  man 
who  told  you  about  the  plans  of  the  Canadian  land 
expedition  to  this  country." 

"Continually,  Madam,  we  find  much  in  common. 
At  least  we  both  know  that  the  Canadian  expedition 
started  west  Tell  me,  when  will  it  arrive  on  the 
Columbia?" 

"It  will  never  arrive.  It  will  never  cross  the 
Rockies.  Word  has  gone  up  the  Columbia  now  that 
for  these  men  to  appear  in  this  country  would  bring 
on  immediate  war.  That  does  not  suit  the  book  of 
England  more  than  it  does  that  of  America," 

"Then  the  matter  will  wait  until  you  see  Mr.  Pak. 
cnham  ?" 

She  nodded.    "I  suppose  so." 

"You  will  find  facts  enough.  Should  you  persist 
in  your  mad  journey  and  get  far  enough  to  the  east, 


IN    EXCHANGE  30* 

you  will  see  two  thousand,  three  thousand  men  com 
ing  out  to  Oregon  this  fall.  It  is  but  the  beginning. 
But  you  and  I,  sitting  here,  three  thousand  miles  and 
more  away  from  Washington,  can  determine  this 
question.  Madam,  perhaps  yet  you  may  win  your 
right  to  some  humble  home,  with  a  couch  of  husks  or 
straw.  Sleep,  then,  by  our  camp-fires  across  Amer 
ica,  and  let  our  skies  cover  you  at  night.  Our  men 
will  watch  over  you  faithfully.  Be  our  guest — our 
friend !" 

"You  are  a  good  special  pleader,"  said  she;  "but 
you  do  not  shake  me  in  my  purpose,  and  I  hold  to 
my  terms.  It  does  not  rest  with  you  and  me,  but 
with  another.  As  I  have  told  you — as  we  have  both 
agreed— " 

"Then  let  us  not  speak  her  name,"  said  I. 

Again  her  eyes  looked  into  mine,  straight,  large 
and  dark.  Again  the  spell  of  her  beauty  rose  all 
around  me,  enveloped  me  as  I  had  felt  it  do  before. 
"You  can  not  have  Oregon,  except  through  me/' 
she  said  at  last.  "You  can  not  have — her — except 
through  me!" 

"It  is  the  truth,"  I  answered.  "In  God's  name, 
then,  play  the  game  fair." 


CHAPTER   XXX 

COUNTER  CURRENTS 

Woman  is  like  the  reed  that  bends  to  every  breeze,  bnt 
breaks  not  in  the  tempest. — Bishop  Richard  Whately. 

THE  Oregon  immigration  for  1845  numbered, 
according  to  some  accounts,  not  less  than 
three  thousand  souls.   Our  people  still  rolled 
westward  in  a  mighty  wave.    The  history  of  that 
great  west-bound  movement  is  well  known.     The 
story  of  a  yet  more  decisive  journey  of  that  same 
year  never  has  been  written — that  of  Helena  von 
Ritz,  from  Oregon  to  the  east.    The  price  of  that 
journey  was  an  empire;  its  cost — ah,  let  me  not  yet 
speak  of  that. 

Although  Meek  and  I  agreed  that  he  should  push 
east  at  the  best  possible  speed,  it  was  well  enough 
understood  that  I  should  give  him  no  more  than  a 
day  or  so  start  I  did  not  purpose  to  allow  so  risky 
a  journey  as  this  to  be  undertaken  by  any  woman  in 
so  small  a  party,  and  made  no  doubt  that  I  would 
overtake  them  at  least  at  Fort  Hall,  perhaps  five 
hundred  miles  east  of  the  Missions,  or  at  farthest  at 

302 


COUNTER    CURRENTS  303 

Fort  Bridger,  some  seven  hundred  miles  from  the 
starting  point  in  Oregon. 

The  young  wife  of  one  of  the  missionaries  was 
glad  enough  to  take  passage  thus  for  the  East;  and 
there  was  the  silent  Threlka.  Those  two  could  offer 
company,  even  did  not  the  little  Indian  maid,  adopt 
ed  by  the  baroness,  serve  to  interest  her.  Their 
equipment  and  supplies  were  as  good  as  any  pur 
chasable.  What  could  be  done,  we  now  had  done. 

Yet  after  all  Helena  von  Ritz  had  her  own  way. 
I  did  not  see  her  again  after  we  parted  that  evening 
at  the  Mission.  I  was  absent  for  a  couple  of  days 
with  a  hunting  party,  and  on  my  return  discovered 
that  she  was  gone,  with  no  more  than  brief  farewell 
to  those  left  behind !  Meek  was  anxious  as  herself 
to  be  off;  but  he  left  word  for  me  to  follow  on  at 
once. 

Gloom  now  fell  upon  us  all.  Doctor  Whitman,  the 
only  white  man  ever  to  make  the  east-bound  journey 
from  Oregon,  encouraged  us  as  best  he  could;  but 
young  Lieutenant  Peel  was  the  picture  of  despair, 
nor  did  he  indeed  fail  in  the  prophecy  he  made  to 
me;  for  never  again  did  he  set  eyes  on  the  face  of 
Helena  von  Ritz,  and  never  again  did  I  meet  him. 
I  heard,  years  later,  that  he  died  of  fever  on  the 
China  coast. 

It  may  be  supposed  that  I  myself  now  hurried  in 
my  plans.  I  was  able  to  make  up  a  small  party  of 


304    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

four  men,  about  half  the  number  Meek  took  with 
him ;  and  I  threw  together  such  equipment  as  I  could 
find  remaining,  not  wholly  to  my  liking,  but  good 
enough,  I  fancied,  to  overtake  a  party  headed  by  a 
woman.  But  one  thing  after  another  cost  us  time, 
and  we  did  not  average  twenty  miles  a  day.  I  felt 
half  desperate,  as  I  reflected  on  what  this  might 
mean.  As  early  fall  was  approaching,  I  could  ex 
pect,  in  view  of  my  own  lost  time,  to  encounter  the 
annual  wagon  train  two  or  three  hundred  miles  far 
ther  westward  than  the  object  of  my  pursuit  nat 
urally  would  have  done.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  my 
party  met  the  wagons  at  a  point  well  to  the  west  of 
Fort  Hall. 

It  was  early  in  the  morning  we  met  them  coming 
west, — that  long,  weary,  dust-covered,  creeping  car 
avan,  a  mile  long,  slow  serpent,  crawling  westward 
across  the  desert.  In  time  I  came  up  to  the  head  of 
the  tremendous  wagon  train  of  1845,  and  its  leader 
and  myself  threw  up  our  hands  in  the  salutation  of 
the  wilderness. 

The  leader's  command  to  halt  was  passed  back 
from  one  wagon  to  another,  over  more  than  a  mile 
of  trail.  As  we  dismounted,  there  came  hurrying  up 
about  us  men  and  women,  sunburned,  lean,  ragged, 
abandoning  their  wagons  and  crowding  to  hear  the 
news  from  Oregon.  I  recall  the  picture  well  enough 
to-day — the  sun-blistered  sands  all  about,  the  short 


COUNTER    CURRENTS  305 

and  scraggly  sage-brush,  the  long  line  of  white- 
topped  wagons  dwindling  in  the  distance,  the  thin« 
faced  figures  which  crowded  about. 

The  captain  stood  at  the  head  of  the  front  team, 
his  hand  resting  on  the  yoke  as  he  leaned  against  the 
bowed  neck  of  one  of  the  oxen.  The  men  and  women 
were  thin  almost  as  the  beasts  which  dragged  the 
wagons.  These  latter  s^od  with  lolling  tongues 
even  thus  early  in  the  day,  for  water  hereabout  was 
scarce  and  bitter  to  the  taste.  So,  at  first  almost  in 
silence,  we  made  the  salutations  of  the  desert.  So, 
presently,  we  exchanged  the  news  of  East  and  West. 
So,  I  saw  again  my  canvas  of  the  fierce  west-bound. 

There  is  to-day  no  news  of  the  quality  which  we 
then  communicated.  These  knew  nothing  of  Ore 
gon.  I  knew  nothing  of  the  East.  A  national 
election  had  been  held,  regarding  which  I  knew  not 
even  the  names  of  the  candidates  of  either  party, 
not  to  mention  the  results.  All  I  could  do  was  to 
guess  and  to  point  to  the  inscription  on  the  white 
top  of  the  foremost  wagon:  "Fifty-four  Forty  or 
Tight!1' 

"Is  Polk  elected?"  I  asked  the  captain  of  the  train. 

He  nodded.    "He  shore  is,"  said  he.  "We're  com- 
in*  out  to  take  Oregon.    What's  the  news?" 
;   My  own  grim  news  was  that  Oregon  was  ours  and 
must  be  ours.    I  shook  hands  with  a  hundred  men  on 
that,  our  hands  clasped  in  stern  and  silent  grip. 


306     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

Then,  after  a  time,  I  urged  other  questions  foremost 
in  my  own  mind.  Had  they  seen  a  small  party  east- 
bound? 

Yes,  I  had  answer.  They  had  passed  this  light 
outfit  east  of  Bridger's  post.  There  was  one  chance 
in  a  hundred  they  might  get  over  the  South  Pass 
that  fall,  for  they  were  traveling  light  and  fast,  with 
good  animals,  and  old  Jc.  Meek  was  sure  he  would 
make  it  through.  The  women?  Well,  one  was  a 
preacher's  wife,  another  an  old  Gipsy,  and  another 
the  most  beautiful  woman  ever  seen  on  the  trail  or 
anywhere  else.  Why  was  she  going  east  instead  of 
west,  away  from  Oregon  instead  of  to  Oregon?  Did 
I  know  any  of  them  ?  I  was  following  them  ?  Then 
I  must  hurry,  for  soon  the  snow  would  come  in  the 
Rockies.  They  had  seen  no  Indians.  Well,  if  I  was 
following  them,  there  would  be  a  race,  and  they 
wished  me  well !  But  why  go  East,  instead  of  West? 

Then  they  began  to  question  me  regarding  Ore 
gon.  How  was  the  land?  Would  it  raise  wheat  and 
corn  and  hogs?  How  was  the  weather?  Was  there 
much  game?  Would  it  take  much  labor  to  clear  a 
farm  ?  Was  there  any  likelihood  of  trouble  with  the 
Indians  or  with  the  Britishers?  Could  a  man  really 
get  a  mile  square  of  good  farm  land  without  trouble? 
And  so  on,  and  so  on,  as  we  sat  in  the  blinding  sun  in 
the  sage-brush  desert  until  midday. 

Of  course  it  came  to  politics.     Yes,  Texas  had 


COUNTER    CURRENTS  307 

been  annexed,  somehow,  not  by  regular  vote  of  the 
Senate.  There  was  some  hitch  about  that.  My  leader 
reckoned  there  was  no  regular  treaty.  It  had  just 
been  done  by  joint  resolution  of  the  House — done  by 
Tyler  and  Calhoun,  just  in  time  to  take  the  feather 
out  of  old  Folk's  cap!  The  treaty  of  annexation— > 
why,  yes,  it  was  ratified  by  Congress,  and  everything 
signed  up  March  third,  just  one  day  before  Folk's 
inaugural !  Folk  was  on  the  warpath,  according  to 
my  gaunt  leader.  There  was  going  to  be  war  as  sure 
as  shooting,  unless  we  got  all  of  Oregon.  We  had 
offered  Great  Britain  a  fair  show,  and  in  return  she 
had  claimed  everything  south  to  the  Columbia,  so 
now  we  had  withdrawn  all  soft  talk.  It  looked  like 
war  with  Mexico  and  England  both.  Never  mind, 
in  that  case  we  would  whip  them  both ! 

"Do  you  see  that  writin'  on  my  wagon  top  ?'*  asked 
the  captain.  "Fifty-four  Forty  or  Fight.  That's 
us/" 

And  so  they  went  on  to  tell  us  how  this  cry  was 
spreading,  South  and  West,  and  over  the  North  as 
well ;  although  the  Whigs  did  not  dare  cry  it  quite 
=o  loudly. 

"They  want  the  land,  just  the  same,"  said  the  cap 
tain.  "We  all  want  it,  an*,  by  God !  we're  goin'  to 
git  it!" 

And  so  at  last  we  parted,  each  the  better  for  the 
information  gained,  each  to  resume  what  would  to- 


308     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

day  seem  practically  an  endless  journey.  Our  fare 
wells  were  as  careless,  as  confident,  as  had  been  our 
greetings.  Thousands  of  miles  of  unsettled  country 
lay  east  and  west  of  us,  and  all  around  us,  our  em 
pire,  not  then  won. 

History  tells  how  that  wagon  train  went  through, 
and  how  its  settlers  scattered  all  along  the  Wil 
lamette  and  the  Columbia  and  the  Walla  Walla,  and 
helped  us  to  hold  Oregon.  For  myself,  the  chapter 
of  accidents  continued.  I  was  detained  at  Fort  Hall, 
and  again  east  of  there.  I  met  straggling  immi 
grants  coming  on  across  the  South  Pass  to  winter  at 
Bridger's  post;  but  finally  I  lost  all  word  of  Meek's 
party,  and  could  only  suppose  that  they  had  got  over 
the  mountains. 

I  made  the  journey  across  the  South  Pass,  the 
snow  being  now  beaten  down  on  the  trails  more  than 
usual  by  the  west-bound  animals  and  vehicles.  Of 
all  these  now  coming  on,  none  would  get  farther 
west,  than  Fort  Hall  that  year.  Our  own  party,  al 
though  over  the  Rockies,  had  yet  the  Plains  to  cross. 
I  was  glad  enough  when  we  staggered  into  old  Fort 
Laramie  in  the  midst  of  a  blinding  snow-storm 
Winter  had  caught  us  fair  and  full  I  had  lost  the 
race ! 

Here,  then,  I  must  winter.  Yet  I  learned  that  Joe 
Meek  had  outfitted  at  Laramie  almost  -a  -month  ear- 


COUNTER    CURRENTS  309 

Her,  with  new  animals;  had  bought  a  little  grain, 
and,  under  escort  of  a  cavalry  troop  which  had  come 
west  with  the  wagon  train,  had  started  east  in  timev 
perhaps,  to  make  it  through  to  the  Missouri.  In  a 
race  of  one  thousand  miles,  the  baroness  had  already 
beaten  me  almost  by  a  month !  Further  word  was,  of 
course,  now  unobtainable,  for  no  trains  or  wagons 
would  come  west  so  late,  and  there  were  then  no 
stages  carrying  mail  across  the  great  Plains.  There 
was  nothing  for  me  to  do  except  to  wait  and  eat  out 
my  heart  at  old  Fort  Laramie,  in  the  society  of  Indi 
ans  and  trappers,  half-breeds  and  traders.  The  win 
ter  seemed  years  in  length,  so  gladly  I  make  its  story 
brief. 

It  was  now  the  spring  of  1846,  and  I  was  in  my 
second  year  away  from  Washington.  Glad  enough 
I  was  when  in  the  first  sunshine  of  spring  I  started 
east,  taking  my  chances  of  getting  over  the  Plains. 
At  last,  to  make  the  long  journey  also  brief,  I  did 
reach  Fort  Leavenworth,  by  this  time  a  five  months' 
loser  in  the  transcontinental  race.  It  was  a  new  an 
nual  wagon  train  which  I  now  met  rolling  westward. 
Such  were  times  and  travel  not  so  long  ago. 

Little  enough  had  come  of  my  two  years'  journey 
out  to  Oregon.  Like  to  the  army  of  the  French 
king,  I  had  marched  up  the  hill  and  then  marched 
down  again.  As  much  might  have  been  said  of  the 


3io    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

United  States;  and  the  same  was  yet  more  true  of 
Great  Britain,  whose  army  of  occupation  had  not 
even  marched  wholly  up  the  hill.  So  much  as  this 
latter  fact  I  now  could  tell  my  own  government ;  and 
I  could  say  that  while  Great  Britain's  fleet  held  the 
sea  entry,  the  vast  and  splendid  interior  of  an  un 
known  realm  was  open  on  the  east  to  our  marching 
armies  of  settlers.  Now  I  could  describe  that  realm, 
even  though  the  plot  of  events  advanced  but  slowly 
regarding  it.  It  was  a  plot  of  the  stars,  whose  work 
is  done  in  no  haste. 

Oregon  still  was  held  in  that  oft  renewed  and 
wholly  absurd  joint  occupancy,  so  odious  and  so 
dangerous  to  both  nations.  Two  years  were  taken 
from  my  life  in  learning  that — and  in  learning  that 
this  question  of  Oregon's  final  ownership  was  to  be 
decided  not  on  the  Pacific,  not  on  the  shoulders  of 
the  Blues  or  the  Cascades,  but  in  the  east,  there  at 
Washington,  after  all.  The  actual  issue  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  God  of  Battles,  who  sometimes  uses 
strange  instruments  for  His  ends.  It  was  not  I,  it 
was  not  Mr.  Calhoun,  not  any  of  the  officers  of  our 
government,  who  could  get  Oregon  for  us.  It  was 
the  God  of  Battles,  whose  instrument  was  a  woman, 
Helena  von  Ritz.  After  all,  this  was  the  chief  fruit 
of  my  long  journey. 

As  to  the  baroness,  she  had  long  since  left  Fort 


COUNTER    CURRENTS  3" 

k,«aven worth  for  the  East  I  followed  still  with 
what  speed  I  could  employ.  I  could  not  reach  Wash 
ington  now  until  long  after  the  first  buds  would  be 
out  and  the  creepers  growing  green  on  the  gallery  of 
Mr.  Calhoun's  residence.  Yes,  green  also  on  all  the 
lattices  of  Elmhurst  Mansion.  What  had  happened 
there  for  me? 


CHAPTER    XXXI 

THE  PAYMENT 

What  man  seeks  in  love  is  woman;  what  woman  seeks  h 
nan  is  love. — Houssaye. 

WHEN  I  reached  Washington  it  was  in 
deed  spring,  warn;,  sweet  spring.  In 
the  wide  avenues  the  straggling  tr^es 
were  doing  their  best  to  dignify  the  city,  and  flowers 
were  blooming  everywhere.  Wonderful  enough  did 
all  this  seem  to  me  after  thousands  of  miles  of  rude 
scenery  of  bare  valleys  and  rocky  hills,  wild  land 
scapes,  seen  often  through  cold  and  blinding  storms 
amid  peaks  and  gorges,  or  on  the  drear,  forbidding 
Plains. 

Used  more,  of  late,  to  these  wilder  scenes,  I  felt 
awkward  and  still  half  savage.  I  did  not  at  once 
seek  out  my  own  friends.  My  first  wish  was  to  get 
in  touch  with  Mr.  Calhoun,  for  I  knew  that  so  I 
would  most  quickly  arrive  at  the  heart  of  events. 

He  was  ,away  when  I  called  at  his  residence  on 
Georgetown  Heights,  but  at  last  I  heard  the  wheels 
of  his  oH  omnibus,  and  presently  he  entered  with 
his  usual  companion,  Doctor  Samuel  Ward.  When: 

312 


THE    PAYMENT  313 

they  saw  me  there,  then  indeed  I  received  a  greeting 
which  repaid  me  for  many  things !  This  over,  we 
all  three  broke  out  in  laughter  at  my  uncouth  ap 
pearance.  I  was  clad  still  in  such  clothing  as  I  could 
pick  up  in  western  towns  as  I  hurried  on  from  the 
Missouri  eastward;  and  I  had  as  yet  found  no  time 
for  barbers. 

"We  have  had  no  word  from  you,  Nicholas,"  said 
Mr.  Calhoun  presently,  "since  that  from  Laramie, 
in  the  fall  of  eighteen  forty-four.  This  is  in  the 
spring  of  eighteen  forty-six !  Meantime,  we  might 
all  have  been  dead  and  buried  and  none  of  us  the 
wiser.  What  a  country !  'Tis  more  enormous  than 
the  mind  of  any  of  us  can  grasp." 

"You  should  travel  across  it  to  learn  that,"  I 
grinned. 

"Many  things  have  happened  since  you  left.  You 
know  that  I  am  back  in  the  Senate  once  more?" 

I  nodded.    "And  about  Texas?"  I  began. 

"Texas  is  ours,"  said  he,  smiling  grimly.  "You 
have  heard  how?  It  was  a  hard  fight  enough — a 
bitter,  selfish,  sectional  fight  among  politicians.  But 
there  is  going  to  be  war.  Our  troops  crossed  the 
Sabine  more  than  a  year  ago.  They  will  cross  the 
Rio  Grande  before  this  year  is  done.  The  Mexican  ( 
minister  has  asked  for  his  passports.  The  adminis 
tration  has  ordered  General  Taylor  to  advance.  Mr. 
Polk  is  carrying  out  annexation  with  a  vengeance. 


314     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

Seeing  a  chance  for  more  territory,  now  that  Texas 
is  safe  from  England,  he  plans  war  on  helpless  and 
deserted  Mexico !  We  may  hear  of  a  battle  now  at 
any  time.  But  this  war  with  Mexico  may  yet  mean 
war  with  England.  That,  of  course,  endangers  our 
chance  to  gain  all  or  any  of  that  great  Oregon  coun 
try.  Tell  me,  what  have  you  learned  ?" 

I  hurried  on  now  with  my  own  news,  briefly  as  I 
might.  I  told  them  of  the  ships  of  England's  Navy 
waiting  in  Oregon  waters;  of  the  growing  suspicion 
of  the  Hudson  Bay  people;  of  the  changes  in  the 
management  at  Fort  Vancouver;  of  the  change  also 
from  a  conciliatory  policy  to  one  of  half  hostility. 
I  told  them  of  our  wagon  trains  going  west,  and  of 
the  strength  of  our  frontiersmen;  but  offset  this, 
justly  as  I  might,  by  giving  facts  also  regarding  the 
opposition  these  might  meet. 

"Precisely,"  said  Calhoun,  walking  up  and  down, 
his  head  bent.  "England  is  prepared  for  war!  How 
much  are  we  prepared?  It  would  cost  us  the  reve 
nues  of  a  quarter  of  a  century  to  go  to  war  with  her 
to-day.  It  would  cost  us  fifty  thousand  lives.  We 
would  need  an  army  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  thou 
sand  men.  Where  is  all  that  to  come  from?  Can 
we  transport  our  army  there  in  time?  But  had  all 
this  bluster  ceased,  then  we  could  have  deferred  this 
war  with  Mexico ;  could  have  bought  with  coin  what 
*iow  will  cost  us  blood;  and  we  could  also  have 


THE    PAYMENT  315, 

bought  Oregon  without  the  cost  of  either  coin  or 
blood.  Delay  was  what  we  needed!  All  of  Oregon 
should  have  been  ours !" 

"But,  surely,  this  is  not  all  news  to  you?"  I  began. 
"Have  you  not  seen  the  Baroness  von  Ritz?  Has 
she  not  made  her  report?" 

"The  baroness?"  queried  Calhoun.  "That  stormy 
petrel — that  advance  agent  of  events !  Did  she  in 
deed  sail  with  the  British  ships  from  Montreal?  Did 
you  find  her  there — in  Oregon?" 

"Yes,  and  lost  her  there!  She  started  east  last 
summer,  and  beat  me  fairly  in  the  race.  Has  she 
not  made  known  her  presence  here?  She  told  me 
she  was  going  to  Washington." 

He  shook  his  head  in  surprise.  "Trouble  now,  I 
fear!  Pakenham  has  back  his  best  ally,  our  worst 
antagonist." 

"That  certainly  is  strange,"  said  I.  "She  had 
five  months  the  start  of  me,  and  in  that  time  there  is 
no  telling  what  she  has  done  or  undone.  Surely, 
she  is  somewhere  here,  in  Washington!  She  held 
Texas  in  her  shoes.  I  tell  you  she  holds  Oregon  in 
'ier  gloves  to-day !" 

I  started  up,  my  story  half  untold. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  Mr.  Calhoun  of 
^me.  Doctor  Ward  looked  at  me,  smiling.  "He  does 
not  inquire  of  a  certain  young  lady — " 

"I  am  going  to  find  the  Baroness  von  Ritz !"  said 


FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 


I.  I  flushed  red  under  my  tan,  I  doubt  not;  but  I 
would  not  ask  a  word  regarding  Elisabeth. 

Doctor  Ward  came  and  laid  a  hand  on  my  shoul 
der.  "Republics  forget,"  said  he,  "but  men  from 
South  Carolina  do  not.  Neither  do  girls  from 
Maryland.  Do  you  think  so?" 

"That  is  what  I  am  going  to  find  out." 

"How  then?  Are  you  going  to  Elmhurst  as  you 
look  now?" 

"No.  I  shall  find  out  many  things  by  first  finding 
the  Baroness  von  Ritz."  And  before  they  could 
make  further  protests,  I  was  out  and  away. 

I  hurried  now  to  a  certain  side  street,  of  which  I 
have  made  mention,  and  knocked  confidently  at  a 
door  I  knew.  The  neighborhood  was  asleep  in  the 
warm  sun.  I  knocked  a  second  time,  and  began  to 
doubt,  but  at  last  heard  slow  footsteps. 

There  appeared  at  the  crack  of  the  door  the 
wrinkled  visage  of  the  old  serving-woman,  Threlka. 
I  knew  that  she  would  be  there  in  precisely  this 
way,  because  there  was  every  reason  in  the  world 
why  it  should  not  have  been.  She  paused,  scanning 
me  closely,  then  quickly  opened  the  door  and  al 
lowed  me  to  step  inside,  vanishing  as  was  her  wont 
I  heard  another  step  in  a  half-hidden  hallway  be 
yond,  but  this  was  not  the  step  which  I  awaited  ;  it 
was  that  of  a  man,  slow,  feeble,  hesitating.  I  started 
forward  as  a  face  appeared  at  the  parted  curtains. 


THE    PAYMENT  317 

A  glad  cry  welcomed  me  in  turn.  A  tall,  bent  form 
approached  me,  and  an  arm  was  thrown  about  my 
shoulder.  It  was  my  whilom  friend,  our  ancient 
scientist,  Von  Rittenhof  en !  I  did  not  pause  to  ask 
how  he  happened  to  be  there.  It  was  quite  natural, 
since  it  was  wholly  impossible.  I  made  no  wonder 
at  the  Chinese  dog  Chow,  or  the  little  Indian  maid, 
who  both  came,  stared,  and  silently  vanished.  See 
ing  these,  I  knew  that  their  strange  protector  must 
also  have  won  through  safe. 

"Ach,  Gott!  Gesegneter  Gott!  I  see  you  again, 
my  friend  !"  Thus  the  old  Doctor. 

"But  tell  me,"  I  interrupted,  "where  is  the  mis 
tress  of  this  house,  the  Baroness  von  Ritz  ?" 

He  looked  at  me  in  his  mild  way.  "You  mean  my 
daughter  Helena?" 

Now  at  last  I  smiled.  His  daughter!  This  at 
least  was  too  incredible!  He  turned  and  reached 
behind  him  to  a  little  table.  He  held  up  before  my 
eyes  my  little  blanket  clasp  of  shell.  Then  I  knew 
that  this  last  and  most  impossible  thing  also  was  true, 
and  that  in  some  way  these  two  had  found  eachx 
other !  But  why?  What  could  he  now  mean  ? 

"Listen  now,"  he  began,  "and  I  shall  tell  you.  I 
wass  in  the  street  one  day.  When  I  walk  alone,  I 
do  not  much  notice.  But  now,  as  I  walk,  before  my 
eyes  on  the  street,  I  see  what?  This — this,  the  Tab 
Gook !  At  first,  I  see  nothing  but  it.  Then  I  look 


318     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

up.  Before  me  iss  a  woman,  young  and  beautiful. 
Ach  !  what  should  I  do  but  take  her  in  my  arms !" 

"It  was  she;  it  was — " 

"My  daughter!  Yess,  my  daughter.  It  iss 
Helena!  I  haf  not  seen  her  for  many  years,  long, 
cruel  years.  I  suppose  her  dead.  But  now  there  we 
were,  standing,  looking  in  each  other's  eyes !  We 
see  there —  Ach,  Gott!  what  do  we  not  see?  Yet 
in  spite  of  all,  it  wass  Helena!  But  she  shall  tell 
you/'  He  tottered  from  the  room. 

I  heard  his  footsteps  pass  down  the  hall.  Then 
softly,  almost  silently,  Helena  von  Ritz  again  stood 
before  me.  The  light  from  a  side  window  fell  upon 
her  face.  Yes,  it  was  she!  Her  face  was  thinner 
now,  browner  even  than  was  its  wont  Her  hair 
was  still  faintly  sunburned  at  its  extremities  by  the 
western  winds.  Yet  hers  was  still  imperishable 
youth  and  beauty. 

I  held  out  my  hands  to  her.  "Ah,"  I  cried,  "you 
played  me  false !  You  ran  away  !  By  what  miracle 
did  you  come  through  ?  I  confess  my  defeat.  You 
beat  me  by  almost  half  a  year." 

"But  now  you  have  come,"  said  she  simply. 

"Yes,  to  remind  you  that  you  have  friends.  You 
have  been  here  in  secret  all  the  winter.  Mr.  Cal- 
houn  did  not  know  you  had  come.  Why  did  you  not 
go  to  him  ?" 

"I  was  waiting  for  you  to  come.     Do  you  not  re- 


THE    PAYMENT  319 

member  our  bargain?  Each  day  I  expected  you. 
In  some  way,  I  scarce  knew  how,  the  weeks  wore 
on." 

"And  now  I  find  you  both  here — you  and  your 
father — where  I  would  expect  to  find  neither.  Con 
tinually  you  violate  all  law  of  likelihood.  But  now,, 
you  have  seen  Elisabeth  ?" 

"Yes,  I  have  seen  her/'  she  said,  still  simply. 

I  could  think  of  no  word  suited  to  that  moment 
I  stood  only  looking  at  her.  She  would  have  spoken, 
but  on  the  instant  raised  a  hand  as  though  to  de 
mand  my  silence.  I  heard  a  loud  knock  at  the  door, 
peremptory,  commanding,  as  though  the  owner 
came. 

"You  must  go  into  another  room,"  said  Helena 
von  Ritz  to  me  hurriedly. 

"Who  is  it?    Who  is  it  at  the  door?"  I  asked. 

She  looked  at  me  calmly.  "It  is  Sir  Richard 
Pakenham,"  said  she.  "This  is  his  usual  hour.  I 
will  send  him  away.  Go  now — quick !" 

I  rapidly  passed  behind  the  screening  curtains 
into  the  hall,  even  as  I  heard  a  heavy  foot  stumbling 
at  the  threshold  and  a  somewhat  husky  voice  offer 
some  sort  of  r>aJuta,tion. 


CHAPTER    XXXII 


The  happiest  women,  like  nations,  have  no  history. 

— George  Eliot. 

THE  apartment  into  which  I  hurriedly  steppea 
I  found  to  be  a  long  and  narrow  hall,  heav 
ily  draped.     A  door  or  so  made  off  on  the 
right-hand  side,  and  a  closed  door  also  appeared  at 
the  farther  end ;  but  none  invited  me  to  enter,  and  I 
did  not   care  to   intrude.      This  situation   did   not 
please  me,  because  I  must  perforce  hear  all  that  went 
on  in  the  rooms  which  I  had  just  left.     I  heard  the 
thick  voice  of  a  man,  apparently  none  the  better  for 
wine. 

"My  dear,"  it  began,  "I — "  Some  gesture  must 
have  warned  him. 

"God  bless  my  soul !"  he  began  again.  "Who  is 
'here,  then  ?  What  is  wrong  ?" 

"My  father  is  here  to-day,"  I  heard  her  clear 
voice  answer,  "and,  as  you  suggest,  it  might  perhaps 
be  better—" 

"God  bless  my  soul!"  he  repeated.     "But,  my 
320 


PAKENHAM'S    PRICE  321 

dear,  then  I  must  go!     To-night,  then!    Where  is 
that  other  key  ?    It  would  never  do,  you  know — " 

"No,  Sir  Richard,  it  would  never  do.  Go,  then !" 
spoke  a  low  and  icy  voice,  hers,  yet  not  hers* 
"Hasten  I"  I  heard  her  half  whisper.  "I  think  per- 
fiaps  my  father — " 

But  it  was  my  own  footsteps  they  heard.  This 
was  something  to  which  I  could  not  be  party.  Yet, 
rapidly  as  I  walked,  her  visitor  was  before  me.  I 
caught  sight  only  of  his  portly  back,  as  the  street 
door  closed  behind  him.  She  stood,  her  back  against 
the  door,  her  hand  spread  out  against  the  wall,  a? 
though  to  keep  me  from  passing. 

I  paused  and  looked  at  her,  held  by  the  horror  in 
her  eyes.  She  made  no  concealment,  offered  no 
apologies,  and  showed  no  shame.  I  repeat  that  it 
was  only  horror  and  sadness  mingled  which  I  saw 
upon  her  face. 

"Madam,"  I  began.  And  again,  "Madam!"  and 
then  I  turned  away. 

"You  see,"  she  said,  sighing. 

"Yes,  I  fear  I  see;  but  I  wish  I  did  not  Can  I 
not — may  I  not  be  mistaken  ?" 

"No,  it  is  true.    There  is  no  mistake. n 

"What  have  you  done?    Why?     Why?" 

"Did  you  not  always  credit  me  with  being  the* 
good  friend  of  Mr.  Pakenham  years  ago — did  not 
all  the  city  ?  Well,  then  I  was  not;  but  I  am,  now  J 


322     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

I  was  England's  agent  only — until  last  night.  Mon* 
sieur,  you  have  come  too  soon,  too  late,  too  late.  Ahf 
my  God!  my  God!  Last  night  I  gave  at  last  that 
consent.  He  comes  now  to  claim,  to  exact,  to  take—* 
possession — of  me  .  .  .  Ah,  my  God !" 

"I  can  not,  of  course,  understand  you,  Madam. 
What  is  it?  Tell  me r 

"For  three  years  England's  minister  besought  me 
to  be  his,  not  England's,  property.  It  was  not  true, 
what  the  town  thought.  It  was  not  true  in  the  case 
either  of  Yturrio.  Intrigue — yes — I  loved  it  I  in 
trigued  with  England  and  Mexico  both,  because  it 
was  in  my  nature;  but  no  more  than  that.  No  mat 
ter  what  I  once  was  in  Europe,  I  was  not  here — not, 
as  I  said,  until  last  night.  Ah,  Monsieur!  Ah, 
Monsieur !"  Now  her  hands  were  beating  together. 

"But  why  then?  Why  then?  What  do  you 
mean?"  I  demanded. 

" Because  no  other  way  sufficed.  All  this  winter, 
here,  alone,  I  have  planned  and  thought  about  other 
means.  Nothing  would  do.  There  was  but  the  one 
way.  Now  you  see  why  I  did  not  go  to  Mr.  Cal- 
houn,  why  I  kept  my  presence  here  secret." 

"But  you  saw  Elisabeth?" 

"Yes,  long  ago.  My  friend,  you  have  wonJ  You 
both  have  won,  and  I  have  lost.  She  loves  you,  and 
is  worthy  of  you.  You  are  worthy  of  each  other, 
yes.  I  saw  I  had  lost ;  and  I  told  you  I  would  pay 


PAKENHAM'S    PRICE  323 

my  wager.  I  told  you  I  would  give  you  her — and 
Oregon!  Well,  then,  that  last  was — hard."  She 
choked.  "That  was — hard  to  do."  She  almost 
sobbed.  "But  I  have — paid !  Heart  and  soul  .  . 
and  body  ...  I  have  .  .  .  paid!  Now,  hp 
comes  ...  for  ...  the  price!" 

"But  then— but  then!"  I  expostulated.  "What 
does  this  mean,  that  I  see  here?  There  was  no  need 
tor  this.  Had  you  no  friends  among  us?  Why, 
though  it  meant  war,  I  myself  to-night  would  choke 
that  beast  Pakenham  with  my  own  hands !" 

"No,  you  will  not." 

"But  did  I  not  hear  him  say  there  was  a  key — his 
key— to-night?" 

"Yes,  England  once  owned  that  key.  Now,  he 
does.  Yes,  it  is  true.  Since  yesterday.  Now,  he 
comes  ..." 

"But,  Madam — ah,  how  could  you  so  disappoint 
my  belief  in  you  ?" 

"Because" — she  smiled  bitterly — "in  all  great 
causes  there  are  sacrifices." 

"But  no  cause  could  warrant  this." 

"I  was  judge  of  that,"  was  her  response.  "I  saw 
her — Elisabeth — that  girl.  Then  I  saw  what  the 
future  years  meant  for  me.  I  tell  you,  I  vowed 
with  her,  that  night  when  I  thought  you  two  were 
wedded.  I  did  more.  I  vowed  myself  to  a  new  and 
wider  world  that  night.  Now,  I  have  lost  it  After 


324    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

all,  seeing  I  could  not  now  be  a  woman  and  be 
happy,  I — Monsieur — I  pass  on  to  others,  after  this, 
not  that  torture  of  life,  but  that  torturing  principle 
of  which  we  so  often  spoke.  Yes,  I,  even  as  I  am; 
because  by  this — this  act — this  sacrifice — I  can  win 
you  for  her.  And  I  can  win  that  wider  America 
which  you  have  coveted;  which  I  covet  for  you — 
which  I  covet  with  you  I" 

I  could  do  no  more  than  remain  silent,  and  allow 
her  to  explain  what  was  not  in  the  least  apparent 
to  me.  After  a  time  she  went  on. 

"Now — now,  I  say — Pakenham  the  minister  is 
sunk  in  Pakenham  the  man.  He  does  as  I  demand 
— because  he  is  a  man.  He  sSgns  what  I  demand  be 
cause  I  am  a  woman.  I  say,  to-night — but,  see!" 

She  hastened  now  to  a  little  desk,  and  caught  up 
a  folded  document  which  lay  there.  This  she 
handed  to  me,  unfolded,  and  I  ran  it  over  with  a 
hasty  glance.  It  was  a  matter  of  tremendous  im 
portance  which  lay  in  those  few  closely  written  lines. 

England's  minister  offered,  over  the  signature  of 

England,  a  compromise  of  the  whole  Oregon  debate, 

provided  this  country  would  accept  the  line  of  the 

I  forty-ninth  degree!     That,  then,  was  Pakenham's 

price  for  this  key  that  lay  here. 

"This — this  is  all  I  have  been  able  to  do  with  him 
thus  far,"  she  faltered.  "It  is  not  enough,  But  I 
did  it  for  you  1" 


PAKENHAM'S    PRICE  325 

"Madam,  this  is  more  than  all  America  has  been 
able  to  do  before !  This  has  not  been  made  public?" 

"No,  no !  It  is  not  enough.  But  to-night  I  shall 
make  him  surrender  all — all  north,  to  the  very  ice, 
for  America,  for  the  democracy!  See,  now,  I  was 
born  to  be  devoted,  immolated,  after  all,  as  my^ 
mother  was  before  me.  That  is  fate!  But  I  shal* 
make  fate  pay !  Ah,  Monsieur !  Ah,  Monsieur !" 

She  flung  herself  to  her  feet.  "I  can  get  it  all  for 
you,  you  and  yours !"  she  reiterated,  holding  out  her 
hands,  the  little  pink  fingers  upturned,  as  was  often 
her  gesture.  "You  shall  gx>  to  your  chief  and  tell 
dim  that  Mr.  Polk  was  right — that  you  yourself, 
who  taught  Helena  von  Ritz  what  life  is,  taught  her 
that  after  all  she  was  a  woman — are  able,  because 
she  was  a  woman,  to  bring  in  your  own  hands  all 
that  country,  yes,  to  fifty-four  forty,  or  even  farther. 
I  do  not  know  what  all  can  be  done.  I  only  know 
that  a  fool  will  part  with  everything  for  the  sake  of 
his  body." 

I  stood  now  looking  at  her,  silent,  trying  to  fathom 
the  vastness  of  what  she  said,  trying  to  understand 
at  all  their  worth  the  motives  which  impelled  her. 
The  largeness  of  her  plan,  yes,  that  could  be  seen. 
The  largeness  of  her  heart  and  brain,  yes,  that  also. 
Then,  slowly,  I  saw  yet  more.  At  last  I  understood, 
What  I  saw  was  a  horror  to  my  soul. 

"Madam,"  said  I  to  her,  at  last,  "did  you  indeed 


326    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

think  me  so  cheap  as  that?  Come  here!"  I  led  her 
to  the  central  apartment,  and  motioned  her  to  a  seat 

"Now,  then,  Madam,  much  has  been  done  here,  as 
you  say.  It  is  all  that  ever  can  be  done.  You  shall 
not  see  Pakenham  to-night,  nor  ever  again !" 

"But  think  what  that  will  cost  you!"  she  broke 
out.  "This  is  only  part.  It  should  all  be  yours." 

I  flung  the  document  from  me.  "This  has  already 
cost  too  much,"  I  said.  "We  do  not  buy  states  thus." 

"But  it  will  cost  you  your  future!  Polk  is  your 
enemy,  now,  as  he  is  Calhoun's.  He  will  not  strike 
you  now,  but  so  soon  as  he  dares,  he  will.  Now,  if 
you  could  do  this — if  you  could  take  this  to  Mr. 
Calhoun,  to  America,  it  would  mean  for  you  per 
sonally  all  that  America  could  give  you  in  honors." 

"Honors  without  honor,  Madam,  I  do  not  covet," 
I  replied.  Then  I  would  have  bit  my  tongue  through 
when  I  saw  the  great  pallor  cross  her  face  at  the 
cruelty  of  my  speech. 

"And  myself?"  she  said,  spreading  out  her  hands 
again.  "But  no!  I  know  you  would  not  taunt  me. 
I  know,  in  spite  of  what  you  say,  there  must  be  a 
sacrifice.  Well,  then,  I  have  made  it.  I  have  made 
my  atonement.  I  say  I  can  give  you  now,  even  thus, 
at  least  a  part  of  Oregon.  I  can  perhaps  give  you 
all  of  Oregon — to-morrow!  The  Pakenhams  have 
always  dared  much  to  gain  their  ends.  This  one  will 
dare  even  treachery  to  his  country.  To-morrow-^<if 


PAKENHAM'S    PRICE  327 

I  do  not  kill  him — if  I  do  not  die — I  can  perhaps 
give  you  all  of  Oregon — bought — bought  and  .  .  « 
paid!"  Her  voice  trailed  off  into  a  whisper  which 
seemed  loud  as  a  bugle  call  to  me. 

"No,  you  can  not  give  us  Oregon,"  I  answered. 
"'We  are  men,  not  panders.  We  fight;  we  do  not 
traffic  thus.  But  you  have  given  me  Elisabeth !" 

"My  rival!"  She  smiled  at  me  in  spite  of  all. 
"But  no,  not  my  rival.  Yes,  I  have  already  given 
you  her  and  given  you  to  her.  To  do  that — to  atone, 
as  I  said,  for  my  attempt  to  part  you — well,  I  will 
give  Mr.  Pakenham  the  key  that  Sir  Richard  Paken- 
ham  of  England  lately  held.  I  told  you  a  woman 
pays,  body  and  soul !  In  what  coin  fate  gave  me,  I 
will  pay  it.  You  think  my  morals  mixed.  No,  I  tell 
you  I  am  clean !  I  have  only  bought  my  own  peace 
with  my  own  conscience!  Now,  at  last,  Helena  von 
Ritz  knows  why  she  was  born,  to  what  end !  I  have 
a  work  to  do,  and,  yes,  I  see  it  now — my  journey  to 
America  after  all  was  part  of  the  plan  of  fate.  I 
have  learned  much — through  you,  Monsieur." 

Hurriedly  she  turned  and  left  me,  passing  through 

the  heavy  draperies  which  cut  off  the  room  where 

stood  the  great  satin  couch.     I  saw  her  cast  herself 

there,  her  arms  outflung.     Slow,  deep  and  silent 

-  sobs  shook  all  her  body. 

"Madam!  Madam!"  I  cried  to  her.  "Do  not! 
Do  not!  What  you  have  done  here  is  worth  a  hun- 


328    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

dred  millions  of  dollars,  a  hundred  thousand  of 
lives,  perhaps.  Yes,  that  is  true.  It  means  most  of 
Oregon,  with  honor,  and  without  war.  That  is  true, 
and  it  is  much.  But  the  price  paid — it  is  more  than 
all  this  continent  is  worth,  if  it  cost  so  much  as  that 
Nor  shall  it !" 

Black,  with  a  million  pin-points  of  red,  the  world 
swam  around  me.  Millions  of  dead  souls  or  souls 
unborn  seemed  to  gaze  at  me  and  my  unhesitating 
rage.  I  caught  up  the  scroll  which  bore  England's 
signature,  and  with  one  clutch  cast  it  in  two  pieces 
on  the  floor.  As  it  lay,  we  gazed  at  it  in  silence. 
Slowly,  I  saw  a  great,  soft  radiance  come  upon  her 
face.  The  red  pin-points  cleared  away  from  my 
own  vision. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 

THE   STORY  OF   HELENA  VON   RITZ 

There  is  in  every  true  woman's  heart  a  spark  of  heavenly 
fire,  which  beams  and  blazes  in  the  dark  hours  of  adver 
sity. — Washington  Irving. 

"But  Madam;  but  Madam — "  I  tried  to  begin.  At 
last,  after  moments  which  seemed  to  me  ages  long,  I 
broke  out :  "But  once,  at  least,  you  promised  to  tell 
me  who  and  what  you  are.  Will  you  do  that  now  ?" 

"Yes!  yes!"  she  said.  "Now  I  shall  finish  the 
clearing  of  my  soul.  You,  after  all,  shall  be  my 
confessor." 

We  heard  again  a  faltering  footfall  in  the  hall 
way.  I  raised  an  eyebrow  in  query. 

"It  is  my  father.  Yes,  but  let  him  come.  He  also 
must  hear.  He  is  indeed  the  author  of  my  stoiy,  such 
as  it  is. 

"Father,"  she  added,  "come,  sit  you  here.  I  have 
something  to  say  to  Mr.  Trist" 

She  seated  herself  now  on  one  of  the  low  couches, 
hsr  hands  clasped  across  its  arm,  her  eyes  looking 
far  away  out  of  the  little  window,  beyond  which 
could  be  seen  the  hills  across  the  wide  Potomac. 

329 


330    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

"We  are  foreigners,"  she  went  on,  "as  you  cart 
tell.  I  speak  your  language  better  than  my  father 
does,  because  I  was  younger  when  I  learned.  It  is 
quite  true  he  is  my  father.  He  is  an  Austrian  noble 
man,  of  one  of  the  old  families.  He  was  educated 
in  Germany,  and  of  late  has  lived  there." 

"I  could  have  told  most  of  that  of  you  both,"  I 
said. 

She  bowed  and  resumed : 

"My  father  was  always  a  student.  As  a  young 
man  in  the  university,  he  was  devoted  to  certain 
theories  of  his  own.  N'  est-ce  pas  vrai,  mon  drole?" 
she  asked,  turning  to  put  her  arm  on  her  father's 
shoulder  as  he  dropped  weakly  on  the  couch  beside 
her. 

He  nodded.  "Yes,  I  wass  student,"  he  said.  "I 
wass  not  content  with  the  ways  of  my  people." 

"So,  my  father,  you  will  see,"  said  she,  smiling  at 
him,  "being  much  determined  on  anything  which  he 
attempted,  decided,  with  five  others,  to  make  a  cer 
tain  experiment.  It  was  the  strangest  experiment, 
I  presume,  ever  made  in  the  interest  of  what  is  called 
science.  It  was  wholly  the  most  curious  and  the 
most  cruel  thing  ever  done." 

She  hesitated  now.  All  I  could  do  was  to  look 
from  one  to  the  other,  wonderingly. 

"This  dear  old  dreamer,  my  father,  then,  and  five 
others — " 


THE  STORY  OF  HELENA  VON  RITZ    331 

"I  name  them!"  he  interrupted.  'There  were 
Karl  von  Goertz,  Albrecht  Hardman,  Adolph  zu 
Sternbern,  Karl  von  Starnack,  and  Rudolph  von 
Wardberg.  We  were  all  friends — " 

"Yes,"  she  said  softly,  "all  friends,  and  all  fools. 
Sometimes  I  think  of  my  mother." 

"My  dear,  your  mother!" 

"But  I  must  tell  this  as  it  was !  Then,  sir,  these 
six,  all  Heidelberg  men,  all  well  born,  men  of  for 
tune,  all  men  devoted  to  science,  and  interested  in 
the  study  of  the  hopelessness  of  the  average  human 
being  in  Central  Europe — these  fools,  or  heroes,  I 
say  not  which — they  decided  to  do  something  in  the 
interest  of  science.  They  were  of  the  belief  that 
human  beings  were  becoming  poor  in  type.  So  they 
determined  to  marry — " 

"Naturally,"  said  I,  seeking  to  relieve  a  delicate 
situation — "they  scorned  the  marriage  of  conve 
nience — they  came  to  our  American  way  of  think 
ing,  that  they  would  marry  for  love." 

"You  do  them  too  much  credit!"  said  she  slowly. 
"That  would  have  meant  no  sacrifice  on  either  side. 
They  married  in  the  interest  of  science!  They  mar° 
ried  with  the  deliberate  intention  of  improving  in 
dividuals  of  the  human  species!  Father,  is  it  not 
so?" 

Some  speech  stumbled  on  his  tongue;  but  she 
raised  her  hand.  "Listen  to  me.  I  will  be  fair  to 


332     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

you,  fairer  than  you  were  either  to  yourself  or  to  my 
mother. 

"Yes,  these  six  concluded  to  improve  the  grade  of 
human  animals!  They  resolved  to  marry  among 
the  peasantry — because  thus  they  could  select  finer 
specimens  of  womankind,  younger,  stronger,  more 
fit  to  bring  children  into  the  world.  Is  not  that  the 
truth,  my  father?" 

"It  wass  the  way  we  thought,"  he  whispered.  "It 
wass  the  way  we  thought  wass  wise." 

"And  perhaps  it  was  wise.  It  was  selection.  So 
now  they  selected.  Two  of  them  married  German 
working  girls,  and  those  two  are  dead,  but  there  is 
no  child  of  them  alive.  Two  married  in  Austria, 
and  of  these  one  died,  and  the  other  is  in  a  mad 
house.  One  married  a  young  Galician  girl,  and  so 
fond  of  her  did  he  become  that  she  took  him  down 
from  his  station  to  hers,  and  he  was  lost.  The 
other—" 

"Yes;  it  was  my  father,"  she  said,  at  length. 
"There  he  sits,  my  father.  Yes,  I  love  him.  I  would 
forfeit  my  life  for  him  now — I  would  lay  it  down 
gladly  for  him.  Better  had  I  done  so.  But  in  my 
time  I  have  hated  him. 

"He,  the  last  one,  searched  long  for  this  fitting 
animal  to  lead  to  the  altar.  He  was  tall  and  young 
and  handsome  and  rich,  do  you  see?  He  could  have 
chosen  among  his  own  people  any  woman  he  liked* 


THE  STORY  OF  HELENA  VON  RITZ    333 

instead,  he  searched  among  the  Galicians,  the  lower 
Austrians,  the  Prussians.  He  examined  Bavaria  and 
Saxony.  Many  he  found,  but  still  none  to  suit  his 
scientific  ideas.  He  bethought  him  then  of  search 
ing  among  the  Hungarians,  where,  it  is  said,  the 
most  beautiful  women  of  the  world  are  found.  So 
at  last  he  found  her,  that  peasant,  my  mother!" 

The  silence  in  the  room  was  broken  at  last  by  her 
low,  even,  hopeless  voice  as  she  went  on. 

"Now  the  Hungarians  are  slaves  to  Austria.  They 
do  as  they  are  bid,  those  who  live  on  the  great  es 
tates.  They  have  no  hope.  If  they  rebel,  they  are  cuf 
down.  They  are  not  a  people.  They  belong  to  no 
one,  not  even  to  themselves." 

"My  God!"  said  I,  a  sigh  breaking  from  me  in 
spite  of  myself.  I  raised  my  hand  as  though  to  be 
seech  her  not  to  go  on.  But  she  persisted. 

"Yes,  we,  too,  called  upon  our  gods !  So,  now,  my 
father  came  among  that  people  and  found  there  a 
young  girl,  one  much  younger  than  himself.  She 
was  the  most  beautiful,  so  they  say,  of  all  those  peo 
ple,  many  of  whom  are  very  beautiful." 

"Yes— proof  of  that!"  said  I.  She  knew  I  meant 
ao  idle  flattery. 

"Yes,  she  was  beautiful.  But  at  first  she  did  not 
fancy  to  marry  this  Austrian  student  nobleman. 
She  said  no  to  him,  even  when  she  found  who  he 
was  and  what  was  his  station — even  when  she  found 


334    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

that  he  meant  her  no  dishonor.  But  our  ruler  heard 
of  it,  and,  being  displeased  at  this  mockery  of  the 
traditions  of  the  court,  and  wishing  in  his  sardonic 
mind  to  teach  these  fanatical  young  nobles  to  rue 
well  their  bargain,  he  sent  word  to  the  girl  that  she 
must  marry  this  man — my  father.  It  was  made  si/i 
imperial  order! 

"And  so  now,  at  last,  since  he  was  half  crazed  by 
her  beauty,  as  men  are  sometimes  by  the  beauty  of 
women,  and  since  at  last  this  had  its  effect  with  her, 
as  sometimes  it  does  with  women,  and  since  it  was 
perhaps  death  or  some  severe  punishment  if  she  did 
not  obey,  she  married  him — my  father. " 

"And  loved  me  all  her  life!"  the  old  man  broke 
out.  "Nefer  had  man  love  like  hers,  I  will  haf  it 
said.  I  will  haf  it  said  that  she  loved  me,  always 
and  always;  and  I  loved  her  always,  with  all  my; 
heart  I" 

"Yes,"  said  Helena  von  Ritz,  "they  two  loved  each 
other,  even  as  they  were.  So  here  am  I,  born  of 
that  love." 

Now  we  all  sat  silent  for  a  time.  "That  birth  was 
at  my  father's  estates,"  resumed  the  same  even, 
merciless  voice.  "After  some  short  time  of  travels, 
they  returned  to  the  estates;  and,  yes,  there  I  was 
born,  half  noble,  half  peasant ;  and  then  there  began 
the  most  cruel  thing  the  world  has  ever  known. 

"The  nobles  of  the  court  and  of  the  country  all 


THE  STORY  OF  HELENA  VON  RITZ    335 

around  began  to  make  existence  hideous  for  my 
mother.  The  aristocracy,  insulted  by  the  republican 
ism  of  these  young  noblemen,  made  life  a  hell  for  the 
most  gentle  woman  of  Hungary.  Ah,  they  found 
new  ways  to  make  her  suffer.  They  allowed  her 
to  share  in  my  father's  estate,  allowed  her  to  appear 
with  him  when  he  could  prevail  upon  her  to  do  so. 
Then  they  twitted  and  taunted  her  and  mocked  her 
in  all  the  devilish  ways  of  their  class.  She  was  more 
beautiful  than  any  court  beauty  of  them  all,  and  they 
hated  her  for  that  She  had  a  good  mind,  and  they 
hated  her  for  that.  She  had  a  faithful,  loyal  heart, 
and  they  hated  her  for  that  And  in  ways  more 
cruel  than  any  man  will  ever  know,  women  and  men 
made  her  feel  that  hate,  plainly  and  publicly,  made 
her  admit  that  she  was  chosen  as  breeding  stock  and 
nothing  better.  Ah,  it  was  the  jest  of  Europe,  for  a 
time.  They  insulted  my  mother,  and  that  became  the 
jest  of  the  court,  of  all  Vienna.  She  dared  not  go 
alone  from  the  castle.  She  dared  not  travel  alone." 

"But  your  father  resented  this?" 

She  nodded.  "Duel  after  duel  he  fought,  man 
after  man  he  killed,  thanks  to  his  love  for  her  and 
his  manhood.  He  would  not  release  what  he  loved. 
He  would  not  allow  his  class  to  separate  him  from 
his  choice.  But  the  women!  Ah,  he  could  not  fight 
them!  So  I  have  hated  women,  and  made  war  on 
them  all  my  life.  My  father  could  not  placate  hi* 


336    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

Emperor.  So,  in  short,  that  scientific  experiment 
ended  in  misery — and  me !" 

The  room  had  grown  dimmer.  The  sun  was  sink 
ing  as  she  talked.  There  was  silence,  I  know,  for  a 
long  time  before  she  spoke  again. 

"In  time,  then,  my  father  left  his  estates  and 
went  out  to  a  small  place  in  the  country;  but  my 
mother — her  heart  was  broken.  Malice  pursued  hen 
Those  who  were  called  her  superiors  would  not  let 
her  alone.  See,  he  weeps,  my  father,  as  he  thinks  of 
these  things. 

' 'There  was  cause,  then,  to  weep.  For  two  years, 
they  tell  me,  my  mother  wept  Then  she  died.  She 
gave  me,  a  baby,  to  her  friend,  a  woman  of  her  vil 
lage— Threlka  Mazoff.  You  have  seen  her.  She 
has  been  my  mother  ever  since.  She  has  been  the 
sole  guardian  I  have  known  all  my  life.  She  has  not 
been  able  to  do  with  me  as  she  would  have  liked." 

''You  did  not  live  at  your  own  home  with  your 
father?"  I  asked. 

"For  a  time.  I  grew  up.  But  my  father,  I  think, 
was  permanently  shocked  by  the  loss  of  the  woman 
he  had  loved  and  whom  he  had  brought  into  all  this 
cruelty.  She  had  been  so  lovable,  so  beautiful — she 
was  so  beautiful,  my  mother !  So  they  sent  me  away 
to  France,  to  the  schools.  I  grew  up,  I  presume, 
proof  in  part  of  the  excellence  of  my  father's  theory. 
T hey  told  me  that  I  was  a  beautiful  animal  I" 


THE  STORY  OF  HELENA  VON  RITZ    337 

The  contempt,  the  scorn,  the  pathos — the  whole 
tragedy  of  her  voice  and  bearing — were  such  as  I 
can  not  set  down  on  paper,  and  such  as  I  scarce  could 
endure  to  hear.  Never  in  my  life  before  have  I  felt 
such  pity  for  a  human  being,  never  so  much  desire  to 
do  what  I  might  in  sheer  compassion. 

But  now,  how  clear  it  all  became  to  me !  I  could 
•understand  many  strange  things  about  the  char 
acter  of  this  singular  woman,  her  whims,  her  unac 
countable  moods,  her  seeming  carelessness,  yet, 
withal,  her  dignity  and  sweetness  and  air  of  breed 
ing — above  all  her  mysteriousness.  Let  others  judge 
her  for  themselves.  There  was  only  longing  in  my 
heart  that  I  might  find  some  word  of  comfort.  What 
could  comfort  her?  Was  not  life,  indeed,  for  her 
to  remain  a  perpetual  tragedy? 

"But,  Madam,"  said  I,  at  length,  "you  must  not 
wrong  your  father  and  your  mother  and  yourself. 
These  two  loved  each  other  devotedly.  Well,  what 
more?  You  are  the  result  of  a  happy  marriage.  You 
are  beautiful,  you  are  splendid,  by  that  reason." 

"Perhaps.  Even  when  I  was  sixteen,  I  was  beau 
tiful,"  she  mused.  "I  have  heard  rumors  of  that  But 
I  say  to  you  that  then  I  was  only  a  beautiful  animal. 
Also,  I  was  a  vicious  animal.  I  had  in  my  heart  all 
the  malice  which  my  mother  never  spoke.  I  felt  in 
my  soul  the  wish  to  injure  women,  to  punish  men, 
to  torment  them,  to  make  them  pay!  To  set  even 


FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 


those  balances  of  torture  !  —  ah,  that  was  my  ambi« 
tion  !  I  had  not  forgotten  that,  when  I  first  met  you, 
when  I  first  heard  of  —  her,  the  woman  whom  you 
love,  whom  already  in  your  savage  strong  way  you 
have  wedded  —  the  woman  whose  vows  I  spoke  with 
her  —  I  —  I,  Helena  von  Ritz,  with  history  such  as 
mine! 

"Father,  father,"  —  she  turned  to  him  swiftly; 
"rise—  go  !  I  can  not  now  speak  before  you.  Leave 
us  alone  until  I  call  !" 

Obedient  as  though  he  had  been  the  child  and  she 
the  parent,  the  old  man  rose  and  tottered  feebly  from 
the  room. 

"There  are  things  a  woman  can  not  say  in  the 
presence  of  a  parent,"  she  said,  turning  to  me.  Her 
face  twitched.  "It  takes  all  my  bravery  to  talk  to 
you." 

"Why  should  you?   There  is  not  need.    Do  not!" 

"Ah,  I  must,  because  it  is  fair,"  said  she.  "I  have 
lost,  lost!  I  told  you  I  would  pay  my  wager." 

After  a  time  she  turned  her  face  straight  toward 
mine  and  went  on  with  her  old  splendid  bravery. 

"So,  now,  you  see,  when  I  was  young  and  beauti 
ful  I  had  rank  and  money.  I  had  brains.  I  had 
hatred  of  men.  I  had  contempt  for  the  aristocracy. 
My  heart  was  peasant  after  all.  My  principles  were 
those  of  the  republican.  Revolution  was  in  my  soul, 
I  say.  Thwarted,  distorted,  wretched,  unscrupulous, 


THE  STORY  OF  HELENA  VON  RITZ    339 

I  did  what  I  could  to  make  hell  for  those  who  had 
made  hell  for  us.  I  have  set  dozens  of  men  by  the 
ears.  I  have  been  promised  in  marriage  to  I  know 
not  how  many.  A  dozen  men  have  fought  to  the 
death  in  duels  over  me.  For  each  such  death  I  had 
not  even  a  thought.  The  more  troubles  I  made,  the 
happier  I  was.  Oh,  yes,  in  time  I  became  known — I 
had  a  reputation ;  there  is  no  doubt  of  that. 

"But  still  the  organized  aristocracy  had  its  re 
venge — it  had  its  will  of  me,  after  all.  There  came 
to  me,  as  there  had  to  my  mother,  an  imperial  order. 
In  punishment  for  my  fancies  and  vagaries,  I  was 
condemned  to  marry  a  certain  nobleman.  That  was 
the  whim  of  the  new  emperor,  Ferdinand,  the  de 
generate.  He  took  the  throne  when  I  was  but  six 
teen  years  of  age.  He  chose  for  me  a  degenerate 
mate  from  his  own  sort."  She  choked,  now. 

"You  did  marry  him?" 

She  nodded.  "Yes.  Debauche,  rake,  monsterr 
degenerate,  product  of  that  aristocracy  which  had 
oppressed  us,  I  was  obliged  to  marry  him,  a  man 
three  times  my  age!  I  pleaded.  I  begged.  I  was 
taken  away  by  night.  I  was — I  was —  They  say  I 
was  married  to  him.  For  myself,  I  did  not  know 
where  I  was  or  what  happened.  But  after  that  they 
said  that  I  was  the  wife  of  this  man,  a  sot,  a  monster, 
the  memory  only  of  manhood.  Now,  indeed,  the  re 
venge  of  the  aristocracy  was  complete !" 


340    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

She  went  on  at  last  in  a  voice  icy  cold.  "I  fled  one 
night,  back  to  Hungary.  For  a  month  they  couU  not 
find  me.  I  was  still  young.  I  saw  my  people  then 
as  I  had  not  before.  I  saw  aho  the  monarchies  cf 
Europe.  Ah,  now  I  knew  what  oppression  meant! 
Now  I  knew  what  class  distinction  and  special  privi  > 
leges  meant!  I  saw  what  ruin  it  was  spelling  for 
our  country — what  it  will  spell  for  }  our  country,  if 
they  ever  come  to  rule  here.  Ah,  th<  i  tLr.t  dream 
came  to  me  which  had  come  to  my  f  atlu  -,  that  beau 
tiful  dream  which  justified  me  in  everything  I  did. 
My  friend,  can  it — can  it  in  part  justify  me — now  ? 

"For  the  first  time,  then,  I  resolved  to  live!  I 
have  loved  my  father  ever  since  that  time.  I  pledged 
myself  to  continue  that  work  which  he  had  under 
taken  !  I  pledged  myself  to  better  the  condition  of 
humanity  if  I  might. 

"There  was  no  hope  for  me.  I  was  condemned 
and  ruined  as  it  was.  My  life  was  gone.  Such  as  I 
had  left,  that  I  resolved  to  give  to — what  shall  we 
call  it  ? — the  idee  democratique. 

"Now,  may  God  rest  my  mother's  soul,  and  mine 
also,  so  that  some  time  I  may  see  her  in  another 
world — I  pray  I  may  be  good  enough  for  that  some 
time.  I  have  not  been  sv  eet  and  sinless  as  was  my 
mother.  Fate  laid  a  heavier  burden  upon  me.  But 
what  remained  with  me  throughout  was  the  idea 
which  my  father  had  bequeathed  me — " 


THE  STORY  OF  HELENA  VON  RITZ    34* 

"Ah,  but  also  that  beauty  and  sweetness  and  loy 
alty  which  came  to  you  from  your  mother,"  I  in 
sisted. 

She  shook  her  head.  "Wait!"  she  said.  "Now 
they  pursued  me  as  though  I  had  been  a  criminal, 
and  they  took  me  back — horsemen  about  me  who 
did  as  they  liked.  I  was,  I  say,  a  sacrifice.  News  of 
this  came  to  that  man  who  was  my  husband.  They 
shamed  him  into  fighting.  He  had  not  the  courage 
of  the  nobles  left.  But  he  heard  of  one  nobleman 
against  whom  he  had  a  special  grudge;  and  him  one 
night,  foully  and  unfairly,  he  murdered. 

"News  of  that  came  to  the  Emperor.  My  husband 
was  tried,  and,  the  case  being  well  known  to  the  pub 
lic,  it  was  necessary  to  convict  him  for  the  sake  of 
example.  Then,  on  the  day  set  for  his  beheading, 
the  Emperor  reprieved  him.  The  hour  for  the  exe 
cution  passed,  and,  being  now  free  for  the  time,  he 
fled  the  country.  He  went  to  Africa,  and  there  he 
so  disgraced  the  state  that  bore  him  that  of  late  times 
I  hear  he  has  been  sent  for  to  come  back  to  Austria. 
Even  yet  the  Emperor  may  suspend  the  reprieve 
and  send  him  to  the  block  for  his  ancient  crime.  If 
he  had  a  thousand  heads,  he  could  not  atone  for  the 
wc/rse  crimes  he  has  done ! 

"But  of  him,  and  of  his  end,  I  know  nothing.  So, 
now,  you  see,  I  was  and  am  wed,  and  yet  am  not 
wed,  and  never  was.  I  do  not  know  what  I  am,  nor 


342     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

who  I  am.  After  all,  I  can  not  tell  you  who  I  am, 
or  what  I  am,  because  I  myself  do  not  know. 

"It  was  now  no  longer  safe  for  me  in  my  own 
country.  They  would  not  let  me  go  to  my  father  any 
more.  As  for  him,  he  went  on  with  his  studies,  some 
part  of  his  mind  being  bright  and  clear.  They  did 
not  wish  him  about  the  court  now.  All  these  matters 
were  to  be  hushed  up.  The  court  of  England  began 
to  take  cognizance  of  these  things.  Our  government 
was  scandalized.  They  sent  my  father,  on  pretext  of 
scientific  errands,  into  one  country  and  another — to 
Sweden,  to  England,  to  Africa,  at  last  to  America. 
Thus  it  happened  that  you  met  him.  You  must  both 
have  been  very  near  to  meeting  me  in  Montreal.  It 
was  fate,  as  we  of  Hungary  would  say. 

"As  for  me,  I  was  no  mere  hare-brained  radical. 
I  did  not  go  to  Russia,  did  not  join  the  revolu 
tionary  circles  of  Paris,  did  not  yet  seek  out  Prussia. 
That  is  folly.  My  father  was  right  It  must  be 
the  years,  it  must  be  the  good  heritage,  it  must  be 
the  good  environment,  it  must  be  even  opportunity 
for  all,  which  akue  can  produce  good  human  be 
ings  !  In  short,  beKeve  me,  a  victim,  the  hope  of  the 
world  is  in  a  real  democracy.  Slowly,  gradually,  I 
was  coming  to  believe  that." 

She  paused  a  moment.  "Then,  one  time,  Mon 
sieur, — I  met  you,  here  in  this  very  room !  God  pity 
me !  You  were  the  first  man  I  had  ever  seen.  God 


THE  STORY  OF  HELENA  VON  RITZ    343 

pity  me ! — I  believe  I — loved  you — that  night,  that 
very  first  night!  We  are  friends.  We  are  brave. 
You  are  man  and  gentleman,  so  I  may  say  that,  now. 
I  am  no  longer  woman.  I  am  but  sacrifice. 

"Opportunity  must  exist,  open  and  free  for  all 
the  world,"  she  went  on,  not  looking  at  me  more 
than  I  could  now  at  her.  "I  have  set  my  life  to 
prove  this  thing.  When  I  came  here  to  this  America 
— out  of  pique,  out  of  a  love  of  adventure,  out  of 
sheer  daring  and  exultation  in  imposture — then  I 
saw  why  I  was  born,  for  what  purpose !  It  was  to  do 
such  work  as  I  might  to  prove  the  theory  of  my 
father,  and  to  justify  the  life  of  my  mother.  For  that 
thing  I  was  born.  For  that  thing  I  have  been  damned 
on  this  earth ;  I  may  be  damned  in  the  life  to  come, 
unless  I  can  make  some  great  atonement.  For  these 
I  suffer  and  shall  always  suffer.  But  what  of  that? 
There  must  always  be  a  sacrifice/' 

The  unspeakable  1  -agedy  of  her  voice  cut  to  my 
soul.  "But  listen!"  I  broke  out.  "You  are  young. 
You  are  free.  All  the  world  is  before  you.  You  can 
have  anything  you  like — " 

"Ah,  do  not  talk  to  me  of  that/1  she  exclaimed 
imperiously.  "Do  not  tempt  me  to  attempt  the  de 
ceit  of  myself!  I  made  myself  as  I  am,  long  ago. 
I  did  not  love.  I  did  not  know  it.  As  to  marriage,  I 
did  not  need  it.  I  had  abundant  means  without.  I 
was  in  the  upper  ranks  of  society.  I  was  there ;  I  was 


344    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT. 

classified ;  I  lived  with  them.  But  always  I  had  my 
purposes,  my  plans.  F  r  them  I  paid,  paid,  paid,  as 
a  w  >man  i  us1:,  with — what  a  woman  has. 

"But  now,  I  am  far  ahead  of  my  story.  Let  me 
bring  it  on.  I  went  to  Paris.  I  have  sown  some 
seeds  of  venom,  some  seeds  of  revolution;  in  one 
place  or  another  in  Europe  in  my  time.  Ah,  it 
works;  it  w'll  go!  Here  and  there  I  have  cost  a 
human  life.  Here  and  there  work  was  to  be  done 
which  I  disliked;  but  I  did  it.  Misguided,  uncared 
for,  mishandled  as  I  had  been — well,  as  I  said,  I 
went  to  Paris. 

"Ah,  sir,  will  you  not,  too,  leave  the  room,  and  let 
me  tell  on  this  story  to  myself,  to  my  own  soul?  It  is 
fitter  for  my  confessor  than  for  you." 

"Let  me,  then,  I :  your  confessor !"  said  I.  "For 
get!  Forget!  You  have  not  been  this  which  you 
say.  Do  I  not  know  ?" 

"No,  you  do  not  know.  Well,  let  be.  Let  me  go 
on !  I  say  I  went  to  Paris.  I  was  close  to  the  throne 
of  France.  That  little  Duke  of  Orleans,  son  of  Louis 
Philippe,  was  a  puppet  in  my  hands.  Oh,  I  do  not 
doubt  I  did  mischief  in  that  court,  or  at  least  if  I 
failed  it  was  through  no  lack  of  effort!  I  was  called 
there  'America  Vespucci.'  They  thought  me  Italian  ! 
At  last  they  came  to  know  who  I  was.  They  dared 
not  make  open  rupture  in  the  face  of  the  courts  of 
Europe.  Certain  of  their  high  officials  cams  to  me 


THE  STORY  OF  HELENA  VON  RITZ    345, 

and  my  young  Duke  of  Orleans.  They  asked  me  to 
leave  Paris.  They  did  not  command  it — the  Duke  of 
Orleans  cared  for  that  part  of  it.  But  they  requested 
me  outside — not  in  his  presence.  They  offered  me  a 
price,  a  bribe — such  an  offering  as  would,  I  fancied, 
leave  me  free  to  pursue  my  own  ideas  in  my  own 
fashion  and  in  any  corner  of  the  world.  You  have 
perhaps  seen  some  of  my  little  fancies.  I  imagined 
that  love  and  happiness  were  never  for  me — only 
ambition  and  unrest.  With  these  goes  luxury,  some 
times.  At  least  this  sort  of  personal  liberty  was  of 
fered  me — the  price  of  leaving  Paris,  and  leaving 
the  son  of  Louis  Philippe  to  his  own  devices.  I 
did  so." 

"And  so,  then  you  came  to  Washington?  That 
must  have  been  some  years  ago." 

"Yes ;  some  five  years  ago.  I  still  was  young.  I 
told  you  that  you  must  have  known  me,  and  so,  no 
doubt,  you  did.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  'America  Ves 
pucci'?" 

A  smile  came  to  my  face  at  the  suggestion  of  that 
celebrated  adventuress  and  mysterious  impostress 
who  had  figured  in  the  annals  of  Washington — a 
fair  Italian,  so  the  rumor  ran,  who  had  come  to  this 
country  to  set  up  a  claim,  upon  our  credulity  at 
least,  as  to  being  the  descendant  of  none  less  than 
Amerigo  Vespucci  himself !  This  supposititious  Ital 
ian  had  indeed  gone  so  far  as  to  secure  the  introduc- 


346    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

tion  of  a  bill  in  Congress  granting  to  her  certain 
lands.  The  fate  of  that  bill  even  then  hung  in  the 
balance.  I  had  no  reason  to  put  anything  beyond 
the  audacity  of  this  woman  with  whom  I  spoke !  My 
smile  was  simply  that  which  marked  the  eventual 
voting  down  of  this  once  celebrated  measure,  as 
merry  and  as  bold  a  jest  as  ever  was  offered  the 
credulity  of  a  nation — one  conceivable  only  in  the 
mad  and  bitter  wit  of  Helena  von  Ritz ! 

"Yes,  Madam,"  I  said,  "I  have  heard  of  'America 
Vespucci/  I  presume  that  you  are  now  about  to  re 
peat  that  you  are  she !" 

She  nodded,  the  mischievous  enjoyment  of  her 
colossal  jest  showing  in  her  eyes,  in  spite  of  all. 
"Yes,"  said  she,  "among  other  things,  I  have  been 
'America  Vespucci' !  There  seemed  little  to  do  Lsre 
in  intrigue,  and  that  was  my  first  endeavor  to  an?t',se 
myself.  Then  I  found  other  employment.  England 
needed  a  skilful  secret  agent.  Why  should  I  be 
faithful  to  England  ?  At  least,  why  should  I  not  also 
enjoy  intrigue  with  yonder  government  of  Mexico  at 
the  same  time?  There  came  also  Mr.  Van  Zandt  of 
this  Republic  of  Texas.  Yes,  it  is  true,  I  have  seen 
some  sport  here  in  Washington !  But  all  the  time  as 
I  played  in  my  own  little  game — with  no  one  to  en 
joy  it  sa.ve  myself — I  saw  myself  begin  to  lose.  This 
country — this  great  splendid  country  of  savages-  — 


THE  STORY  OF  HELENA  VON  RITZ    347 

began  to  take  me  by  the  hands,  began  to  look  me  in 
the  eyes,  and  to  ask  me,  'Helena  von  Rits,  what  are 
you?  What  might  you  have  been?' 

"So  now,"  she  concluded,  "you  asked  me,  askecj 
me  what  I  was,  and  I  have  told  you.  I  ask  you  rny- 
self,  what  am  I,  what  am  I  to  be;  and  I  say,  1  am, 
unclean.  But,  being  as  I  am,  I  have  done  wha*  I 
have  done.  It  was  for  a  principle — or  it  was — f(r» 
you  !  I  do  not  know." 

"There  are  those  who  can  be  nothing  else  but 
clean,"  I  broke  out.  "I  shall  not  endure  to  hear  you 
speak  thus  of  yourself.  You — you,  what  have  you 
not  done  for  us  ?  Was  not  your  mother  clean  in  her 
heart?  Sins  such  as  you  mention  were  never  those  of 
scarlet.  If  you  have  sinned,  your  sins  are  white  as 
snow.  I  at  least  am  confessor  enough  to  tell  you 
that." 

"Ah,  my  confessor!"  She  reached  out  her  hands 
to  me,  her  eyes  swimming  wet.  Then  she  pushed  me 
back  suddenly,  beating  with  her  little  hands  upon 
my  breast  as  though  I  were  an  enemy.  "Do  not!" 
she  said.  "Go!" 

My  eye  caught  sight  of  the  great  key,  Pakenham's 
key,  lying  there  on  the  table.  Maddened,  I  caught 
it  up,  and,  with  a  quick  wrench  of  my  naked  hands,, 
broke  it  in  two,  and  threw  the  halves  on  the  floor  to 
join  the  torn  scroll  of  England's  pledge. 


348    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

I  divided  Oregon  at  the  forty-ninth  parallel, 
and  not  at  fifty-four  forty,  when  I  broke  Paken* 
ham's  key.  But  you  shall  see  why  I  have  never  re 
gretted  that. 

"Ask  Sir  Richard  Pakenham  if  he  wants  his  key 
I  said 


CHAPTER   XXXIV 

THE  VICTORY 

She  will  not  stay  the  siege  of  loving  terms, 
Nor  bide  the  encounter  of  assailing  eyes, 
Nor  ope  her  lap  to  soul-seducing  gold    .    .    « 
For  she  is  wise,  if  I  can  judge  of  her; 
And  fair  she  is,  if  that  mine  eyes  be  true; 
And  true  she  is,  as  she  hath  proved  herself. 

— Shakespeare. 

WHAT  have  you  done?"  she  exclaimed. 
"Are  you  mad?     He  may  be  here  at 
any  moment  now.    Go,  at  once !" 
"I  shall  not  go!" 

"My  house  is  my  own !    I  am  my  own !" 
"You  know  it  is  not  true,  Madam !" 
I  saw  the  slow  shudder  that  crossed  her  form,  the 
the  fringe  of  wet  which  sprang  to  her  eyelashes. 
Again  the  pleading  gesture  of  her  half-open  fingers. 
"Ah,  what  matter?"  she  said.     "It  is  only  one 
woman  more,  against  so  much.     What  is  past,  19 
past,   Monsieur.     Once  down,  a  woman   does  nol 
rise." 

"You  forget  history, — you  forget  the  thief  upoa 
the  cross!" 

349 


350    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

'The  thief  on  the  cross  was  not  a  woman.  No,  I 
am  guilty  beyond  hope!" 

"Rather,  you  are  only  mad  beyond  reason, 
Madam.  I  shall  not  go  so  long  as  you  feel  thus, — 
although  God  knows  I  am  no  confessor." 

"I  confessed  to  you, — told  you  my  story,  so  there 
could  be  no  bridge  across  the  gulf  between  us.  My 
happiness  ended  then." 

"It  is  of  no  consequence  that  we  be  happy, 
Madam.  I  give  you  back  your  own  words  about  yon 
torch  of  principles." 

For  a  time  she  sat  and  looked  at  me  steadily. 
There  was,  I  say,  some  sort  of  radiance  on  her  face, 
though  I,  dull  of  wit,  could  neither  understand  nor 
describe  it  I  only  knew  that  she  seemed  to  ponder 
for  a  long  time,  seemed  to  resolve  at  last.  Slowly  she 
rose  and  left  me,  parting  the  satin  draperies  which 
screened  her  boudoir  from  the  outer  room.  There 
was  silence  for  some  time.  Perhaps  she  prayed, — I 
do  not  know. 

Now  other  events  took  this  situation  in  hand.  I 
heard  a  footfall  on  the  walk,  a  cautious  knocking  on 
the  great  front  door.  So,  my  lord  Pakenham  was 
prompt.  Now  I  could  not  escape  even  if  I  liked. 

Pale  and  calm,  she  reappeared  at  the  parted  dra 
peries.  I  lifted  the  butts  of  my  two  derringers  into 
view  at  my  side  pockets,  and  at  a  glance  from  her, 
hurriedly  stepped  into  the  opposite  room.  After  a 


THE   VICTORY  351 

time  I  heard  her  open  the  door  in  response  to  a  sec- 
ond  knock. 

I  could  not  see  her  from  my  station,  but  the  very 
jsilence  gave  me  a  picture  of  her  standing,  pale,  for 
bidding,  rebuking  the  first  rude  exclamation  of  his 
ardor. 

"Come  now,  is  he  gone?  Is  the  place  safe  at 
last?"  he  demanded. 

"Enter,  my  lord,"  she  said  simply. 

'This  is  the  hour  you  said,"  he  began ;  and  she  an 
swered  : 

"My  lord,  it  is  the  hour." 

"But  come,  what's  the  matter,  then?  You  act 
solemn,  as  though  this  were  a  funeral,  and  not — 
just  a  kiss,"  I  heard  him  add. 

He  must  have  advanced  toward  her.  Continually 
I  was  upon  the  point  of  stepping  out  from  my  con 
cealment,  but  as  continually  she  left  that  not  quite 
possible  by  some  word  or  look  or  gesture  of  her  own 
with  him. 

"Oh,  hang  it!"  I  heard  him  grumble,  at  length; 
"how  can  one  tell  what  a  woman'll  do?  Damn  it, 
Helen !" 

"  'Madam/  you  mean !" 

"Well,  then,  Madam,  why  all  this  hoighty- 
voighty?  Haven't  I  stood  flouts  and  indignities 
enough  from  you.  ?  Didn't  you  make  a  show  of  me 
before  that  ass,  Tyler,  when  I  was  at  the  very  point 


352    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

of  my  greatest  coup?  You  denied  knowledge  that 
I  knew  you  had.  But  did  I  discard  you  for  that? 
I  have  found  you  since  then  playing  with  Mexico, 
Texas,  United  States  all  at  once?  Have  I  punished 
you  for  that?  No,  I  have  only  shown  you  the  more 
regard." 

"My  lord,  you  punish  me  most  when  you  most 
show  me  your  regard." 

"Well,  God  bless  my  soul,  listen  at  that!  Listen 
at  that — here,  now,  when  I've — Madam,  you  shock 
me,  you  grieve  me.  I — could  I  have  a  glass  of 
wine?" 

I  heard  her  ring  for  Threlka,  heard  her  fasten 
the  door  behind  her  as  she  left,  heard  him  gulp  over 
his  glass.  For  myself,  although  I  did  not  yet  dis 
close  myself,  I  felt  no  doubt  that  I  should  kill 
Pakenham  in  these  rooms.  I  even  pondered 
whether  I  should  shoot  him  through  the  temple  and 
cut  off  his  consciousness,  or  through  the  chest  and 
so  let  him  know  why  he  died. 

After  a  time  he  seemed  to  look  about  the  room,  his 
eye  falling  upon  the  littered  floor. 

"My  key!"  he  exclaimed;  "broken!  Who  did 
':hat?  I  can't  use  it  now!" 

"You  will  not  need  to  use  it,  my  lord." 

"But  I  bought  it,  yesterday!  Had  I  given  you 
all  of  the  Oregon  country  it  would  not  have  been 
srorth  twenty  thousand  pounds.  What  I'll  have  to- 


THE   VICTORY  353 

night — what  I'll  take — will  be  worth  twice  that. 
But  I  bought  that  key,  and  what  I  buy  I  keep." 

I  heard  a  struggle,  but  she  repulsed  him  />nce 
more  in  some  way.  Still  my  time  had  not  come.  He 
seemed  now  to  stoop,  grunting,  to  pick  up  some 
thing  from  the  floor. 

"How  now?  My  memorandum  of  treaty,  and 
torn  in  two!  Oh,  I  see — I  see,"  he  mused.  "You 
wish  to  give  it  back  to  me — to  be  wholly  free!  It 
means  only  that  you  wish  to  love  me  for  myself,  for 
what  I  am !  You  minx !" 

"You  mistake,  my  lord,"  said  her  calm,  cold 
voice. 

"At  least,  'twas  no  mistake  that  I  offered  you  this 
damned  country  at  risk  of  my  own  head.  Are  you 
then  with  England  and  Sir  Richard  Pakenham? 
Will  you  give  my  family  a  chance  for  revenge  on 
these  accursed  heathen — these  Americans?  Come, 
do  that,  and  I  leave  this  place  with  you,  and  quit 
diplomacy  for  good.  We'll  travel  the  continent, 
we'll  go  the  world  over,  you  and  I.  I'll  quit  my 
estates,  my  family  for  you.  Come,  now,  why  do 
you  delay?" 

"Still  you  misunderstand,  my  lord." 

"Tell  me  then  what  you  do  mean." 

"Our  old  bargain  over  this  is  broken,  my  lord. 
We  must  make  another." 

His    anger    rose.      "What?      You    want    more? 


354    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

You're  trying  to  lead  me  on  with  your  damned  cour* 
tezan  tricks !" 

I  heard  her  voice  rise  high  and  shrill,  even  as  I 
started  forward. 

"Monsieur,"  she  cried,  "back  with  you!" 

Pakenham,  angered  as  he  was,  seemed  half  to 
hear  my  footsteps,  seemed  half  to  know  the  swing 
ing  of  the  draperies,  even  as  I  stepped  back  in 
obedience  to  her  gesture.  Her  wit  was  quick  as 
ever. 

"My  lord,"  she  said,  "pray  close  yonder  window. 
The  draft  is  bad,  and,  moreover,  we  should  have 
secrecy."  He  obeyed  her,  and  she  led  him  still  fur 
ther  from  the  thought  of  investigating  his  surround 
ings. 

"Now,  my  lord,"  she  said,  "take  back  what  you 
have  just  said!" 

"Under  penalty?"  he  sneered. 

"Of  your  life,  yes." 

"So !"  he  grunted  admiringly ;  "well,  now,  I  like 
fire  in  a  woman,  even  a  deceiving  light-o'-love  like 
you !" 

"Monsieur!"  her  voice  cried  again;  and  once 
more  it  restrained  me  in  my  hiding. 

"You  devil !"  he  resumed,  sneering  now  in  all  his 
ugliness  of  wine  and  rage  and  disappointment. 
"What  were  you?  Mistress  of  the  prince  of  France! 
Toy  of  a  score  of  aobles!  Slave  of  that  infamous 


THE    VICTORY  355 

rake,  your  husband !  Much  you've  got  in  your  life  to 
make  you  uppish  now  with  me !" 

"My  lord,"  she  said  evenly,  "retract  that.  If  you 
do  not,  you  shall  not  leave  this  place  alive." 

In  some  way  she  mastered  him,  even  in  his  ugly 
mood. 

"Well,  well,"  he  growled,  "I  admit  we  don't  get 
on  very  well  in  our  little  love  affair;  but  I  swear  you 
drive  me  out  of  my  mind.  I'll  never  find  another 
woman  in  the  world  like  you.  It's  Sir  Richard 
Pakenham  asks  you  to  begin  a  new  future  with  him 
self." 

"We  begin  no  future,  my  lord." 

"What  do  you  mean?  Have  you  lied  to  me?  Do 
you  mean  to  break  your  word — your  promise?" 

"It  is  within  the  hour  that  I  have  learned  what 
the  truth  is." 

"God  damn  my  soul!"  I  heard  him  curse,  growl 
ing. 

"Yes,  my  lord,"  she  answered,  "God  will  damn 
your  soul  in  so  far  as  it  is  that  of  a  brute  and  not 
that  of  a  gentleman  or  a  statesman." 

I  heard  him  drop  into  a  chair.  "This  from  one  of 
your  sort!"  he  half  whimpered. 

"Stop,  now!"  she  cried.  "Not  one  word  more  of 
that!  I  say  within  the  hour  I  have  learned  what  is 
the  truth.  I  am  Helena  von  Ritz,  thief  on  the  cross, 
and  at  last  clean !" 


356     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

"God  A'might,  Madam!  How  pious!"  he 
gneered.  "Something's  behind  all  this.  I  know 
your  record.  What  woman  of  the  court  of  Austria 
or  France  comes  out  with  morals?  We  used  you 
here  because  you  had  none.  And  now,  when  it 
comes  to  the  settlement  between  you  and  me,  you 
talk  like  a  nun.  As  though  a  trifle  from  virtue  such 
as  yours  would  be  missed !" 

"Ah,  my  God !"  I  heard  her  murmur.  Then 
again  she  called  to  me,  as  he  thought  to  himself; 
so  that  all  was  as  it  had  been,  for  the  time. 

A  silence  fell  before  she  went  on. 

"Sir  Richard,"  she  said  at  length,  "we  do  not 
meet  again.  I  await  now  your  full  apology  for  these 
things  you  have  said.  Such  secrets  as  I  have 
learned  of  England's,  you  know  will  remain  safe 
with  me.  Also  your  own  secret  will  be  safe.  Re~ 
tract,  then,  what  you  have  said,  of  my  personal 
life!" 

"Oh,  well,  then,"  he  grumbled,  "I  admit  I've  had 
a  bit  of  wine  to-day.  I  don't  mean  much  of  any 
thing  by  it  But  here  now,  I  have  come,  and  by 
your  own  invitation — your  own  agreement.  Being 
('here,  I  find  this  treaty  regarding  Oregon  torn  iu 
two  and  you  gone  nun  all  a-sudden." 

"Yes,  my  lord,  it  is  torn  in  two.  The  considera 
tion  moving  to  it  was  not  valid.  But  now  I  wish 
you  to  amend  that  treaty  once  more,  and  for  a  con- 


THE    VICTORY  357 

sideration  valid  in  every  way.  My  lord,  I  promised 
that  which  was  not  mine  to  give — myself!  Did  yon 
lay  hand  on  me  now,  I  should  die.  If  you  kissed  me, 
I  should  kill  you  and  myself !  As  you  say,  I  took 
yonder  price,  the  devil's  shilling.  Did  I  go  on,  I 
would  be  enlisting  for  the  damnation  of  my  soul; 
but  I  will  not  go  on.  I  recant!" 

"But,  good  God!  woman,  what  are  you  asking 
now?  Do  you  want  me  to  let  you  have  this  paper 
anyhow,  to  show  old  John  Calhoun?  I'm  no  such 
ass  as  that.  I  apologize  for  what  I've  said  about 
you.  I'll  be  your  friend,  because  I  can't  let  you  go. 
But  as  to  this  paper  here,  I'll  put  it  in  my  pocket." 

"My  lord,  you  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  Be 
fore  you  leave  this  room  there  shall  be  two  miracles 
done.  You  shall  admit  that  one  has  gone  on  in  me; 
I  shall  see  that  you  yourself  have  done  another." 

"What  guessing  game  do  you  propose,  Madam?" 
he  sneered.  He  seemed  to  toss  the  torn  paper  on 
the  table,  none  the  less.  "The  condition  is  for 
feited,"  he  began. 

"No,  it  is  not  forfeited  except  by  your  own  word, 
my  lord,"  rejoined  the  same  even,  icy  voice*  "Yo* 
shall  see  now  the  first  miracle !" 

"Under  duress?"  he  sneered  again. 

"Yes,  then!  Under  duress  of  what  has  not  oftea 
come  to  surface  in  you,  Sir  Richard.  I  ask  you  t* 
do  truth,  and  not  treason,  my  lord!  She  who  was 


'358    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

Helena  von  Ritz  is  dead — has  passed  away.  There 
can  be  no  question  of  forfeit  between  you  and  her. 
Look,  my  lord !" 

I  heard  a  half  sob  from  him.  I  heard  a  faint 
rustling  of  silks  and  laces.  Still  her  even,  icy  voice 
went  on. 

"Rise,  now,  Sir  Richard,"  she  said  "Unfasten 
my  girdle,  if  you  like !  Undo  my  clasps,  if  you  can. 
You  say  you  know  my  past.  Tell  me,  do  you  see  me 
now?  Ungird  me,  Sir  Richard!  Look  at  me! 
Covet  me !  Take  me !" 

Apparently  he  half  rose,  shuffled  towards  her,  and 
stopped  with  a  stifled  sound,  half  a  sob,  half  a 
growl. 

I  dared  not  picture  to  myself  what  he  must  have 
seen  as  she  stood  fronting  him,  her  hands,  as  I 
imagined,  at  her  bosom,  tearing  back  her  robes. 

Again  I  heard  her  voice  go  on,  challenging  him. 
""Strip  me  now,  Sir  Richard,  if  you  can !  Take  now 
what  you  bought,  if  you  find  it  here.  You  can  not? 
You  do  not?  Ah,  then  tell  me  that  miracle  has  been 
done!  She  who  was  Helena  von  Ritz,  as  you  knew 
her,  or  as  you  thought  you  knew  her,  is  not 
here!" 

Now  fell  long  silence.  I  could  hear  the  breathing 
of  them  both,  where  I  stood  in  the  farther  corner  of 
my  room.  I  had  dropped  both  the  derringers  back 
in  my  pockets  now,  because  I  knew  there  would  be 


THE   VICTORY  359 

no  need  for  them.  Her  voice  was  softer  as  she 
went  on. 

"Tell  me,  Sir  Richard,  has  not  that  miracle  been 
done?"  she  demanded.  "Might  not  in  great  stress 
*hat  thief  upon  the  cross  have  been  a  woman  ?  Tell 
me,  Sir  Richard,  am  I  not  clean  ?" 

He  flung  his  body  into  a  seat,  his  arm  across  the 
table.  I  heard  his  groan. 

"God!  Woman!  What  are  you?"  he  exclaimed. 
"Clean  ?  By  God,  yes,  as  a  lily !  I  wish  I  were  half 
as  white  myself." 

"Sir  Richard,  did  you  ever  love  a  woman?" 

"One  other,  beside  yourself,  long  ago." 

"May  not  we  two  ask  that  other  miracle  of  your 
self?" 

"How  do  you  mean?  You  have  beaten  me  al 
ready." 

"Why,  then,  this !  If  I  could  keep  my  promise,  I 
would.  If  I  could  give  you  myself,  I  would.  Fail 
ing  that,  I  may  give  you  gratitude.  Sir  Richard,  I 
would  give  you  gratitude,  did  you  restore  this  treaty 
as  it  was,  for  that  new  consideration.  Come,  now, 
these  savages  here  are  the  same  savages  who  once 
took  that  little  island  for  you  yonder.  Twice  they 
have  defeated  you.  Do  you  wish  a  third  war?  You 
say  England  wishes  slavery  abolished.  As  you 
know,  Texas  is  wholly  lost  to  England.  The  armies 
of  America  have  swept  Texas  from  your  reach  for 


360    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

ever,  even  at  this  hour.  But  if  you  give  a  new  state 
in  the  north  to  these  same  savages,  you  go  so  far 
against  oppression,  against  slavery — you  do  that 
much  for  the  doctrine  of  England,  and  her  altruism 
in  the  world.  Sir  Richard,  never  did  I  believe  in 
hard  bargains,  and  never  did  any  great  soul  believe 
in  such.  I  own  to  you  that  when  I  asked  you  here 
this  afternoon  I  intended  to  wheedle  from  you  all  of 
Oregon  north  to  fifty-four  degrees,  forty  minutes. 
I  find  in  you  done  some  such  miracle  as  in  myself. 
Neither  of  us  is  so  bad  as  the  world  has  thought, 
as  we  ourselves  have  thought  Do  then,  that  other 
miracle  for  me.  Let  us  compose  our  quarrel,  and 
so  part  friends.'* 

"How  do  you  mean,  Madam?" 

"Let  us  divide  our  dispute,  and  stand  on  this 
treaty  as  you  wrote  it  yesterday.  Sir  Richard,  you 
are  minister  with  extraordinary  powers.  Your  gov 
ernment  ratifies  your  acts  without  question.  Your 
signature  is  binding — and  there  it  is,  writ  already 
on  this  scroll.  See,  there  are  wafers  there  on  the 
table  before  you.  Take  them.  Patch  together  this 
treaty  for  me.  That  will  be  your  miracle,  Sir  Rich 
ard,  and  'twill  be  the  mending  of  our  quarrel.  Sir, 
I  offered  you  my  body  and  you  would  not  take  it. 
I  offer  you  my  hand.  Will  you  have  that,  my  lord? 
I  ask  this  of  a  gentleman  of  England." 

It  was  not  my  right  to  hear  the  sounds  of  a  mam's 


THE   VICTORY  361 

shame  and  humiliation;  or  of  his  rising  resolve,  of 
his  reformed  manhood ;  but  I  did  hear  it  all.  I  think 
that  he  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it.  Presently  I 
heard  some  sort  of  shufflings  and  crinkling  of  paper 
on  the  table.  I  heard  him  sigh,  as  though  he  stood 
(and  looked  at  his  work.  His  heavy  footfalls  crossed 
the  room  as  though  he  sought  hat  and  stick.  Her 
lighter  feet,  as  I  heard,  followed  him,  as  though  she 
held  out  both  her  hands  to  him.  There  was  a  pause, 
and  yet  another;  and  so,  with  a  growling  half  sob, 
at  last  he  passed  out  the  door;  and  she  closed  it 
softly  after  him. 

When  I  entered,  she  was  standing,  her  arms 
spread  out  across  the  door,  her  face  pale,  her  eyes 
large  and  dark,  her  attire  still  disarrayed.  On  the 
table,  as  I  saw,  lay  a  parchment,  mended  with 
wafers. 

Slowly  she  came,  and  put  her  two  arms  across 
my  shoulders.  "Monsieur!"  she  said,  "Monsieur!" 


CHAPTER   XXXV 

THE  PROXY  OF  PAKENHAM 

I 

A  man  can  not  possess  anything  that  is  better  than  a  good 
woman,  nor  anything  that  is  worse  than  a  bad  one. — Simonides. 

WHEN  I  reached  the  central  part  of  the 
city,  I  did  not  hasten  thence  to  Elm- 
hurst  Mansion.  Instead,  I  returned  to 
my  hotel.  I  did  not  now  care  to  see  any  of  my 
friends  or  even  to  take  up  matters  of  business  with! 
my  chief.  It  is  not  for  me  to  tell  what  feelings  came 
to  me  when  I  left  Helena  von  Ritz. 

Sleep  such  as  I  could  gain,  reflections  such  as 
were  inevitable,  occupied  me  for  all  that  night.  It 
was  mid-morning  of  the  following  day  when  finally 
I  once  more  sought  out  Mr.  Calhoun. 

He  had  not  expected  me,  but  received  me  gladly. 
It  seemed  that  he  had  gone  on  about  his  own  plans 
and  with  his  own  methods.  "The  Sefiora  Yturrio  is 
doing  me  the  honor  of  an  early  morning  call/'  he  be 
gan.  "She  is  with  my  daughter  in  another  part  of 
the  house.  As  there  is  matter  of  some  importance  to 
come  up,  I  shall  ask  you  to  attend." 

He  despatched  a  servant,  and  presently  the  lady 
mentioned  joined  us.  She  was  a  pleasing  picture 

362 


THE    PROXY    OF    PAKENHAM       363 

enough  in  her  robe  of  black  laces  and  sulphur-col 
ored  silks,  but  her  face  was  none  too  happy,  and  her 
eyes,  it  seemed  to  me,  bore  traces  either  of  unrest  or 
tears.  Mr.  Calhoun  handed  her  to  a  chair,  where 
she  began  to  use  her  languid  but  effective  fan. 

"Now,  it  gives  us  the  greatest  regret,  my  dear 
Senora,"  began  Mr.  Calhoun,  "to  have  General  Al 
monte  and  your  husband  return  to  their  own  coun 
try.  We  have  valued  their  presence  here  very  much, 
and  I  regret  the  disruption  of  the  friendly  relations 
between  our  countries." 

She  made  any  sort  of  gesture  with  her  fan,  and  he 
went  on :  "It  is  the  regret  also  of  all,  my  dear  lady, 
that  your  husband  seems  so  shamelessly  to  have 
abandoned  you.  I  am  quite  aware,  if  you  will  allow 
me  to  be  so  frank,  that  you  need  some  financial  as 
sistance." 

"My  country  is  ruined,"  said  she.  "Also,  Senor, 
I  am  ruined.  As  you  say,  I  have  no  means  of  life. 
I  have  not  even  money  to  secure  my  passage  home. 
That  Senor  Van  Zandt— " 

"Yes,  Van  Zandt  did  much  for  us,  through  your 
agency,  Senora.  We  have  benefited  by  that,  and  I 
therefore  regret  he  proved  faithless  to  you  person 
ally.  I  am  sorry  to  tell  you  that  he  has  signified  his 
wish  to  join  our  army  against  your  country.  I  hear 
also  that  your  late  friend,  Mr.  Polk,  has  forgotten 
most  of  his  promises  to  you." 


364    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"Him  I  hate  also !"  she  broke  out  "He  broke  his 
promise  to  Senor  Van  Zandt,  to  my  husband,  to 
me!" 

Calhotm  smiled  in  his  grim  fashion.  "I  am  not 
surprised  to  hear  all  that,  my  dear  lady,  for  you  but 
point  out  a  known  characteristic  of  that  gentleman.' 
He  has  made  me  many  promises  which  he  has  for 
gotten,  and  offered  me  even  of  late  distinguished 
honors  which  he  never  meant  me  to  accept.  But, 
since  I  have  been  personally  responsible  for  many  of 
these  things  which  have  gone  forward,  I  wish  to 
make  what  personal  amends  I  can ;  and  ever  I  shall 
thank  you  for  the  good  which  you  have  done  to  this 
country.  Believe  me,  Madam,  you  served  your  own 
country  also  in  no  ill  manner.  This  situation  could 
not  have  been  prevented,  and  it  is  not  your  fault.  I 
beg  you  to  believe  that.  Had  you  and  I  been  left 
alone  there  would  have  been  no  war." 

"But  I  am  poor,  I  have  nothing!"  she  rejoined. 

There  was  indeed  much  in  her  situation  to  excite 
sympathy.  It  had  been  through  her  own  act  that  ne 
gotiations  between  England  and  Texas  were  broken 
off.  All  chance  of  Mexico  to  regain  property  in 
Texas  was  lost  through  her  influence  with  Van 
Zandt.  Now,  when  all  was  done,  here  she  was,  de 
serted  even  by  those  who  had  been  her  allies  in  this 
work. 

"My  dear  Sefiora,"  said  John  Calhoun,  becoming 


THE    PROXY    OF    PAKENHAM       365 

less  formal  and  more  kindly,  "you  shall  have  funds 
sufficient  to  make  you  comfortable  at  least  for  a  time 
after  your  return  to  Mexico.  I  am  not  authorized 
to  draw  upon  our  exchequer,  and  you,  of  course, 
must  prefer  all  secrecy  in  these  matters.  I  regret 
that  my  personal  fortune  is  not  so  large  as  it  might 
be,  but,  in  such  measure  as  I  may,  I  shall  assist  you, 
because  I  know  you  need  assistance.  In  return,  you 
must  leave  this  country.  The  flag  is  down  which 
once  floated  over  the  house  of  Mexico  here." 

She  hid  her  face  behind  her  fan,  and  Calhoun 
turned  aside. 

"Senora,  have  you  ever  seen  this  slipper?"  he 
asked,  suddenly  placing  upon  the  table  the  little  shoe 
which  for  a  purpose  I  had  brought  with  me  and 
meantime  thrown  upon  the  table. 

She  flashed  a  dark  look,  and  did  not  speak. 

"One  night,  some  time  ago,  your  husband  pursued 
a  lady  across  this  town  to  get  possession  of  that  very 
slipper  and  its  contents !  There  was  in  the  toe  of  that 
little  shoe  a  message.  As  you  know,  we  got  from  it 
certain  information,  and  therefore  devised  certain 
plans,  which  you  have  helped  us  to  carry  out.  Now, 
as  perhaps  you  have  had  some  personal  animus 
against  the  other  lady  in  these  same  complicated  af 
fairs,  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  sending  a  special 
messenger  to  ask  her  presence  here  this  morning.  I 
should  like  you  two  to  meet,  and,  if  that  be  possible. 


366     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

to  part  with  such  friendship  as  may  exist  in  the 
premises." 

I  looked  suddenly  at  Mr.  Calhoun.  It  seemed  he 
was  planning  without  my  aid. 

"Yes,"  he  said  to  me,  smiling,  "I  have  neglected  to 
mention  to  you  that  the  Baroness  von  Ritz  also  is 
here,  in  another  apartment  of  this  place.  If  you 
please,  I  shall  now  send  for  her  also." 

He  signaled  to  his  old  negro  attendant  Presently 
the  latter  opened  the  door,  and  with  a  deep  bow  an 
nounced  the  Baroness  von  Ritz,  who  entered,  fol 
lowed  closely  by  Mr.  Calhoun's  inseparable  friend, 
old  Doctor  Ward. 

The  difference  in  breeding  between  these  two 
women  was  to  be  seen  at  a  glance.  The  Dona  Lu- 
crezia  was  beautiful  in  a  way,  but  lacked  the  thor 
oughbred  quality  which  comes  in  the  highest  types 
of  womanhood.  Afflicted  by  nothing  but  a  somewhat 
mercenary  or  personal  grief,  she  showed  her  lack  of 
gameness  in  adversity.  On  the  other  hand,  Helena 
von  Ritz,  who  had  lived  tragedy  all  her  life,  and 
now  w,as  in  the  climax  of  such  tragedy,  was  smiling 
and  debonaire  as  though  she  had  never  been  any 
thing  but  wholly  content  with  life!  She  was  robed 
now  in  some  light  filmy  green  material,  caught  up 
here  and  there  on  the  shoulders  and  secured  with 
silken  knots.  Her  white  neck  showed,  her  arms  were 
partly  bare  with  the  short  sleeves  of  the  time.  She 


THE    PROXY   OF    PAKENHAM       367 

stood,  composed  and  easy,  a  figure  fit  for  any  com 
pany  or  any  court,  and  somewhat  shaming  our  little 
assembly,  which  never  was  a  court  at  all,  only  a  pri 
vate  meeting  in  the  office  of  a  discredited  and 
disowned  leader  in  a  republican  government.  Her 
costume  and  her  bearing  were  Helena  von  Ritz's 
answer  to  a  woman's  fate!  A  deep  color  flamed  in 
her  cheeks.  She  stood  with  head  erect  and  lips 
smiling  brilliantly.  Her  curtsey  was  grace  itself.  Our 
dingy  little  office  was  glorified. 

"I  interrupt  you,  gentlemen/4  she  began. 

"On  the  contrary,  I  am  sure,  my  dear  lady,"  said 
Doctor  Ward,  "Senator  Calhoun  told  me  he  wished 
you  to  meet  Sefiora  Yttirrio." 

"Yes/'  resumed  Calhoun,  "I  was  just  speaking 
with  this  lady  over  some  matters  concerned  with  this 
little  slipper."  He  smiled  as  he  held  it  up  gingerly 
between  thumb  and  finger.  "Do  you  recognize  it, 
Madam  Baroness?" 

"Ah,  my  little  shoe!"  she  exclaimed.  "But  see,  it 
has  not  been  well  cared  for." 

"It  traveled  in  my  war  bag  from  Oregon  to  Wash 
ington,"  said  I.  "Perhaps  bullet  molds  and  powder 
flasks  may  have  damaged  it" 

"It  still  would  serve  as  a  little  post-office,  per 
haps,"  laughed  the  baroness.  "But  I  think  its  days 
are  done  on  such  errands." 

"I  will  explain  something  of  these  errands  to  the 


368    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

Sefiora  Yturrio,"  said  Calhoun.  "I  wish  you  person 
ally  to  say  to  that  lady,  if  you  will,  that  Senor 
Yturrio  regarded  this  little  receptacle  rather  as  offi 
cial  than  personal  post." 

For  one  moment  these  two  women  looked  at  each 
other,  with  that  on  their  faces  which  would  be  hard 
to  describe.  At  last  the  baroness  spoke: 

"It  is  not  wholly  my  fault,  Sefiora  Yturrio,  if  you* 
husband  gave  you  cause  to  think  there  was  more 
than  diplomacy  between  us.  At  least,  I  can  say  to 
you  that  it  was  the  sport  of  it  alone,  the  intrigue,  if 
you  please,  which  interested  me.  I  trust  you  will  not 
accuse  me  beyond  this." 

A  stifled  exclamation  came  from  the  Dona  Lu- 
crezia.  I  have  never  seen  more  sadness  nor  yet 
more  hatred  on  a  human  face  than  hers  displayed.  I 
have  said  that  she  was  not  thoroughbred.  She  arose 
now,  proud  as  ever,  it  is  true,  but  vicious.  She  de 
clined  Helena  von  Ritz's  outstretched  hand,  and 
swept  us  a  curtsey.  "Adios!"  said  she,  "I  go  I" 

Mr.  Calhoun  gravely  offered  her  an  arm ;  and  so 
with  a  rustle  of  her  silks  there  passed  from  our  lives 
one  unhappy  lady  who  helped  make  our  map  for  us. 

The  baroness  herself  turned.  "I  ought  not  to  re 
main/'  she  hesitated. 

"Madam,"  said  Mr.  Calhoun,  "we  can  not  spare1 
you  yet." 

She  flashed  upon  him  a  keen  look.  "It  is  a  young 


THE    PROXY    OF    PAKENHAM       369 

country,"  said  she,  "but  it  raises  statesmen.  You 
foolish,  dear  Americans !  One  could  have  loved  you 
all." 

"Eh,  what?"  said  Doctor  Ward,  turning  to  hen 
"My  dear  lady,  two  of  us  are  too  old  for  that;  and 
as  for  the  other — " 

He  did  not  know  how  hard  this  chance  remark 
might  smite,  but  as  usual  Helena  von  Ritz  was  brave 
and  smiling. 

"You  are  men,"  said  she,  "such  as  we  do  not  have 
in  our  courts  of  Europe.  Men  and  women — that  is 
what  this  country  produces." 

"Madam,"  said  Calhoun,  "I  myself  am  a  very 
poor  sort  of  man.  I  am  old,  and  I  fail  from  month 
to  month.  I  can  not  live  long,  at  best  What  you 
see  in  me  is  simply  a  purpose — a  purpose  to  accom 
plish  something  for  my  country — a  purpose  which 
my  country  itself  does  not  desire  to  see  fulfilled. 
Republics  do  not  reward  us.  What  you  say  shall  be 
our  chief  reward.  I  have  asked  you  here  also  to  ac 
cept  the  thanks  of  all  of  us  who  know  the  intricacies 
of  the  events  which  have  gone  forward.  Madam, 
we  owe  you  Texas!  'Twas  not  yonder  lady,  but 
yourself,  who  first  advised  of  the  danger  that 
threatened  us.  Hers  was,  after  all,  a  simpler  task 
than  yours,  because  she  only  matched  faiths  with 
Van  Zandt,  representative  of  Texas,  who  had  faith 
ift  neither  men,  women  nor  nations.  Had  all  gone 


570     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

well,  we  might  perhaps  have  owed  you  yet  more,  fof 
Oregon/' 

"Would  you  like  Oregon?"  she  askedy  looking  at 
him  with  the  full  glance  of  her  dark  eyes. 

"More  than  my  life!  More  than  the  life  of  my 
self  and  all  my  friends  and  family !  More  than  all 
my  fortune !"  His  voice  rang  clear  and  keen  as  that 
of  youth. 

"All  of  Oregon?"  she  asked. 

"All  ?  We  do  not  own  all !  Perhaps  we  do  not  de 
serve  it.  Surely  we  could  not  expect  it.  Why,  if  we 
got  one-half  of  what  that  fellow  Polk  is  claiming, 
we  should  do  well  enough — that  is  more  than  we 
deserve  or  could  expect.  With  our  army  already  at 
war  on  the  Southwest,  England,  as  we  all  know,  is 
planning  to  take  advantage  of  our  helplessness  in 
Oregon." 

Without  further  answer,  she  held  out  to  him  a 
document  whose  appearance  I,  at  least,  recognized. 

"I  am  but  a  woman,"  she  said,  "but  it  chances  that 
I  have  been  able  to  do  this  country  perhaps  some 
thing  of  a  favor.  Your  assistant,  Mr.  Trist,  has  done 
me  in  his  turn  ,a  favor.  This  much  I  will  ask  per 
mission  to  do  for  him." 

Calhoun's  long  and  trembling  fingers  were  nerv 
ously  opening  the  document.  He  turned  to  her  with 
eyes  blazing  with  eagerness.  "It  is  Oregon!"  He 
dropped  back  into  his  chair. 


THE    PROXY    OF    PAKENHAM       37* 

"Yes,"  said  Helena  von  Ritz  slowly.  "It  is  Ore- 
gon.  It  is  bought  and  paid  for.  It  is  yours !" 

So  now  they  all  went  over  that  document,  signed 
by  none  less  than  Pakenham  himself,  minister  pleni 
potentiary  for  Great  Britain.  That  document  exists 
to-day  somewhere  in  our  archives,  but  I  do  not  feel 
.empowered  to  make  known  its  full  text.  I  would  1 
had  never  need  to  set  down,  as  I  have,  the  cost  of  it. 
These  others  never  knew  that  cost;  and  now  they 
never  can  know,  for  long  years  since  both  Calhoun 
and  Doctor  Ward  have  been  dead  and  gone.  I  turned 
aside  ,as  they  examined  the  document  which  within 
the  next  few  weeks  was  to  become  public  property. 
The  red  wafers  which  mended  it — and  which  she 
smilingly  explained  at  Calhoun's  demand — were,  as 
I  knew,  not  less  than  red  drops  of  blood. 

In  brief  I  may  say  that  this  paper  stated  that,  in 
case  the  United  States  felt  disposed  to  reopen  dis 
cussions  which  Mr.  Polk  peremptorily  had  closed, 
Great  Britain  might  be  able  to  listen  to  a  compro 
mise  on  the  line  of  the  forty-ninth  parallel.  This 
compromise  had  three  times  been  offered  her  by 
diplomacy  of  United  States  under  earlier  adminisc 
trations.  Great  Britain  stated  that  in  view  of  hei 
deep  and  abiding  love  of  peace  and  her  deep  and 
abiding  admiration  for  America,  she  would  resign 
her  claim  of  all  of  Oregon  down  to  the  Columbia; 
and  more,  she  would  accept  the  forty-ninth  parallel; 


372     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

provided  she  might  have  free  navigation  rights  upon 
the  Columbia.  In  fact,  this  was  precisely  the  mem 
orandum  of  agreement  which  eventually  established 
the  lines  of  the  treaty  as  to  Oregon  between  Great 
Britain  and  the  United  States. 

Mr.  Calhoun  is  commonly  credited  with  having 
brought  about  this  treaty,  and  with  having  been  au-  ( 
thor  of  its  terms.  So  he  was,  but  only  in  the  singular 
way  which  in  these  foregoing  pages  I  have  related. 
States  have  their  price.  Texas  was  bought  by  blood. 
Oregon — ah,  we  who  own  it  ought  to  prize  it.  None 
of  our  territory  is  half  so  full  of  romance,  none  of  it 
is  half  so  clean,  as  our  great  and  bodeful  far  North 
west,  still  young  in  its  days  of  destiny. 

"We  should  in  time  have  had  all  of  Oregon,  per 
haps,"  said  Mr.  Calhoun;  "at  least,  that  is  the  talk 
of  these  fierce  politicians." 

"But  for  this  fresh  outbreak  on  the  Southwest 
there  would  have  been  a  better  chance,"  said  Hel 
ena  von  Ritz;  "but  I  think,  as  matters  are  to-day, 
you  would  be  wise  to  accept  this  compromise.  I  have 
seen  your  men  marching,  thousands  of  them,  the 
grandest  sight  of  this  century  or  any  other.  They 
give  full  base  for  this  compromise.  Given  another 
year,  and  your  rifles  and  your  plows  would  make 
your  claims  still  better.  But  this  is  to-day- — " 

"Believe  me,  Mr.  Calhoun,"  I  broke  in,  "your  sig* 
nature  must  go  on  this." 


THE    PROXY    OF    PAKENHAM       373 

4<How  now?  Why  so  anxious,  my  son?" 

"Because  it  is  right!" 

Calhoun  turned  to  Helena  von  Ritz.  "Has  thil 
ueen  presented  to  Mr.  Buchanan,  our  secretary  of 
state?"  he  asked. 

"Certainly  not.  It  has  been  shown  to  no  one.  I 
iiave  been  here  in  Washington  working — well, 
working  in  secret  to  secure  this  document  for  you.  I 
do  this — well,  I  will  be  frank  with  you — I  do  it  for 
Mr.  Trist  He  is  my  friend.  I  wish  to  say  to  you 
that  he  has  been — a  faithful — " 

I  saw  her  face  whiten  and  her  lips  shut  tight.  She 
swayed  a  little  as  she  stood.  Doctor  Ward  was  at 
her  side  and  assisted  her  to  a  couch.  For  the  first 
time  the  splendid  courage  of  Helena  von  Ritz 
seemed  to  fail  her.  She  sank  back,  white,  uncon 
scious, 

"It's  these  damned  stays,  John!"  began  Doctor 
Ward  fiercely.  "She  has  fainted.  Here,  put  her 
down,  so.  We'll  bring  her  around  in  a  minute.  Great 
Jove!  I  want  her  to  hear  us  thank  her.  It's  splendid 
work  she  has  done  for  us.  But  why?" 

When,  presently,  under  the  ministrations  of  the 
old  physician,  Helena  von  Ritz  recovered  her  con 
sciousness,  she  arose,  fighting  desperately  to  pull 
herself  together  and  get  back  her  splendid  courage. 

"Would  you  retire  now,  Madam?"  asked  Mr.  Cal- 
koun.  "I  have  sent  for  my  daughter/1 


374    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"No,  no.  It  is  nothing!"  she  said.  "Forgive  me, 
it  is  only  an  old  habit  of  mine.  See,  I  am  quite  well !" 

Indeed,  in  a  few  moments  she  had  regained  some 
thing  of  that  magnificent  energy  which  was  her  her 
itage.  As  though  nothing  had  happened,  she  arose 
and  walked  swiftly  across  the  room.  Her  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  the  great  map  which  hung  upon  the 
walls — a  strange  map  it  would  seem  to  us  to-day. 
Across  this  she  swept  a  white  hand. 

"I  saw  your  men  cross  this,"  she  said,  pointing 
along  the  course  of  the  great  Oregon  Trail — whose 
detailed  path  was  then  unknown  to  our  geogra 
phers.  "I  saw  them  go  west  along  that  road  of  des 
tiny.  I  told  myself  that  by  virtue  of  their  courage 
they  had  won  this  war.  Sometime  there  will  come 
the  great  war  between  your  people  and  those  who 
rule  them.  The  people  still  will  win." 

She  spread  out  her  two  hands  top  and  bottom  of 
the  map.  "All,  all,  ought  to  be  yours, — from  the 
Isthmus  to  the  ice,  for  the  sake  of  the  people  of  the 
world.  The  people — but  in  time  they  will  have 
their  own !" 

We  listened  to  her  silently,  crediting  her  enthusi 
asm  to  her  sex,  her  race;  but  what  she  said  has  re 
mained  in  one  mind  at  least  from  that  day  to  this. 
Well  might  part  of  her  speech  remain  in  the  minds 
to-day  of  people  and  rulers  alike.  Are  we  worth  the 
price  paid  for  the  country  that  we  gained?  And 


THE    PROXY    OF   PAKENHAM       375 

when  we  shall  be  worth  that  price,  what  Numerals 
shall  mark  our  territorial  lines? 

"May  I  carry  this  document  to  Mr.  Pakenham?" 
asked  John  Calhoun,  at  last>  touching  the  paper  on 
the  table. 

"Please,  no.  Do  not  Only  be  sure  that  this  propo 
sition  of  compromise  will  meet  with  his  acceptance.'1 

"I  do  not  quite  understand  why  yon  do  not  go  to 
Mr.  Buchanan,  our  secretary  of  state." 

"Because  I  pay  my  debts,"  she  said  simply.  "I 
told  you  that  Mr.  Trist  and  I  were  comrades.  I  con 
ceived  it  might  be  some  credit  for  him  in  his  work  to 
have  been  the  means  of  doing  this  much." 

"He  shall  have  that  credit,  Madam,  be  sure  of 
that,"  said  John  Calhoun.  He  held  out  to  her  his 
long,  thin,  bloodless  hand. 

"Madam,"  he  said,  "I  have  been  mistaken  in 
many  things.  My  life  will  be  written  down  as  fail 
ure.  I  have  been  misjudged.  But  at  least  it  shall 
not  be  said  of  me  that  I  failed  to  reverence  a  woman 
such  as  you.  All  that  I  thought  of  you,  that  first 
night  I  met  you,  was  more  than  true.  And  did  I 
not  tell  you  you  would  one  day,  one  way,  find  your 
reward  ?" 

He  did  not  know  what  he  said ;  but  I  knew,  and  1 
spoke  with  him  in  the  silence  of  my  own  heart, 
knowing  that  his  speech  would  be  the  same  were  his 
knowledge  even  with  mine. 


376    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"To-morrow,"  went  on  Calhoun,  "to-morrow 
evening  there  is  to  be  what  we  call  a  ball  of  our 
diplomacy  at  the  White  House.  Our  administration, 
knowing  that  war  is  soon  to  be  announced  in  the 
country,  seeks  to  make  a  little  festival  here  at  the 
capital.  We  whistle  to  keep  up  our  courage.  We 
listen  to  music  to  make  us  forget  our  consciences. 
To-morrow  night  we  dance.  All  Washington  will  be 
there.  Baroness  von  Ritz,  a  card  will  come  to  you." 

She  swept  him  a  curtsey,  and  gave  him  a  smile. 

"Now,  as  for  me,"  he  continued,  "I  am.  an  old 
man,  and  long  ago  danced  my  last  dance  in  public. 
To-morrow  night  all  of  us  will  be  at  the  White 
House — Mr.  Trist  will  be  there,  and  Doctor  Ward, 
and  a  certain  lady,  a  Miss  Elisabeth  Churchill, 
Madam,  whom  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  you  meet.  You 
must  not  fail  us,  dear  lady,  because  I  am  going  to 
ask  of  you  one  favor." 

He  bowed  with  a  courtesy  which  might  have  coma 
from  generations  of  an  old  aristocracy.  "If  you 
please,  Madam,  I  ask  you  to  honor  me  with  your 
hand  for  my  first  dance  in  years — my  last  dance  in 
all  my  life." 

Impulsively  she  held  out  both  her  hands,  bowing 
her  head  as  she  did  so  to  hide  her  face.  Two  old 
gray  men,  one  younger  man,  took  her  hands  -md 
kissed  them. 

Now  our  flag  floats  on  the  Columbia  and  on  the 


THE    PROXY    OF    PAKENHAM       377 

Rio  Grande.  I  am  older  now,  but  when  I  think  of 
that  scene,  I  wish  that  flag  might  float  yet  freer; 
and  though  the  price  were  war  itself,  that  it  might 
float  over  a  cleaner  and  a  nobler  people,  over  cleaner 
and  nobler  rulers,  more  sensible  of  the  splendor  of 
fchat  heritage  of  principle  which  should  be  ours. 


CHAPTER   XXXVI 

THE  PALO  ALTO  BALL 

A  beautiful  woman  pleases  the  eye,  a  good  woman  pleases 
the  heart;  one  is  a  jewel,  the  other  a  treasure. — Napoleon  /. 

ON  THE  evening  of  that  following  Jay  in 
May,  the  sun  hung  red  and  round  over  a 
distant  unknown  land  along  the  Rio  Grande. 
In  that  country,  no  iron  trails  as  yet  had  come.  The 
magic  of  the  wire,  so  recently  applied  to  the  service 
of  man,  was  as  yet  there  unknown.  Word  traveled 
slowly  by  horses  and  mules  and  carts.  There  came 
small  news  from  that  far-off  country,  half  tropic, 
covered  with  palms  and  crooked  dwarfed  growth  of 
mesquite  and  chaparral.  The  long-horned  cattle 
lived  in  these  dense  thickets,  the  spotted  jaguar,  the 
wolf,  the  ocelot,  the  javelina,  many  smaller  creatures 
not  known  in  our  northern  lands.  In  the  loam  along 
the  stream  the  deer  left  their  tracks,  mingled  with 
diose  of  the  wild  turkeys  and  of  countless  water 
fowl.  It  was  a  far-off,  unknown,  unvalued  land. 
Our  flag,  long  past  the  Sabine,  had  halted  at  the 
Nueces.  Now  it  was  to  advance  across  this  wild  re 
gion  to  the  Rio  Grande.  Thus  did  smug  James 
Polk  keep  his  promises ! 

378 


THE    PALO    ALTO    BALL  379 

Among  these  tangled  mesquite  thickets  ran  some 
times  long  bayous,  made  from  the  overflow  of  the 
greater  rivers — resacas,  as  the  natives  call  them. 
Tall  palms  sometimes  grew  along  the  bayous,  for  the 
country  is  half  tropic.  Again,  on  the  drier  ridges, 
there  might  be  taller  detached  trees,  heavier  forests 
~palo  alto,  the  natives  call  them.  In  some  such  place 
as  this,  where  the  trees  were  tall,  there  was  fired  the 
first  gun  of  our  war  in  the  Southwest.  There  were 
strange  noises  heard  here  in  the  wilderness,  followed 
by  lesser  noises,  and  by  human  groans.  Some  faces 
that  night  were  upturned  to  the  moon — the  same 
moon  which  swam  so  gloriously  over  Washington. 
Taylor  camped  closer  to  the  Rio  Grande.  The  fight 
was  next  to  begin  by  the  lagoon  called  the  Resaca  de 
la  Palma.  But  that  night  at  the  capital  that  same 
moon  told  us  nothing  of  all  this.  We  did  not  hear 
the  guns.  It  was  far  from  Palo  Alto  to  our  ports 
of  Galveston  or  New  Orleans.  Our  cockaded  army 
made  its  own  history  in  its  own  unreported  way. 

We  at  the  White  House  ball  that  night  also  made 
history  in  our  own  unrecorded  way.  As  our  army 
was  adding  to  our  confines  on  the  Southwest,  so  there 
were  other,  though  secret,  forces  which  added  to  our 
territory  in  the  far  Northwest.  As  to  this  and  as  to 
the  means  by  which  it  came  about,  I  have  already 
been  somewhat  plain. 

It  was  a  goodly  company  that  assembled  for  die 


38o     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

grand  ball,  the  first  one  in  the  second  season  of  Mr. 
Folk's  somewhat  confused  and  discordant  adminis 
tration.  Social  matters  had  started  off  dour  enough. 
Mrs.  Polk  was  herself  of  strict  religious  practice,  and 
I  imagine  it  had  taken  somewhat  of  finesse  to  get  her 
consent  to  these  festivities.  It  was  called  sometimes 
the  diplomats'  ball.  At  least  there  was  diplomacy 
back  of  it  It  was  mere  accident  which  set  this  cele 
bration  upon  the  very  evening  of  the  battle  of  Palo 
Alto,  May  eighth,  1846. 

By  ten  o'clock  there  were  many  in  the  great  room 
which  had  been  made  ready  for  the  dancing,  and 
rather  a  brave  company  it  might  have  been  called.  We 
had  at  least  the  splendor  of  the  foreign  diplomats' 
uniforms  for  our  background,  and  to  this  we  added 
the  bravest  of  our  attire,  each  one  in  his  own  indi 
vidual  fashion,  I  fear.  Thus  my  friend  Jack  Dan- 
dridge  was  wholly  resplendent  in  a  new  waistcoat  of 
his  own  devising,  and  an  evening  coat  which  almost 
swept  the  floor  as  he  executed  the  evolutions  of  his 
western  style  of  dancing.  Other  gentlemen  were, 
perhaps,  more  grave  and  staid.  We  had  with  us  at 
least  one  man,  old  in  government  service,  who  dared 
the  silk  stockings  and  knee  breeches  of  an  earlier 
generation.  Yet  another  wore  the  white  powdered 
queue,  which  might  have  been  more  suited  for  his 
grandfather.  The  younger  men  of  the  day  wore 
their  hair  long,  in  fashion  quite  different,  yet  this 


THE  PALO  ALTO  BALL     381 

did  not  detract  from  the  distinction  of  some  of  the 
faces  which  one  might  have  seen  among  them — some 
of  them  to  sleep  all  too  soon  upturned  to  the  moon; 
in  another  and  yet  more  bitter  war,  aftermath  of  this 
with  Mexico.  The  tall  stock  was  still  in  evidence  at 
that  time,  and  the  ruffled  shirts  gave  something  of  a 
formal  and  old-fashioned  touch  to  the  assembly. 
Such  as  they  were,  in  their  somewhat  varied  but  not 
uninteresting  attire,  the  best  of  Washington  were 
present.  Invitation  was  wholly  by  card.  Some  said 
that  Mrs.  Polk  wrote  these  invitations  in  her  own 
hand,  though  this  we  may  be  permitted  to  doubt 

Whatever  might  have  been  said  as  to  the  demo 
cratic  appearance  of  our  gentlemen  in  Washington, 
our  women  were  always  our  great  reliance,  and  these 
at  least  never  failed  to  meet  the  approval  of  the  most 
sneering  of  our  foreign  visitors.  Thus  we  had  pres 
ent  that  night,  as  I  remember,  two  young  girls  both 
later  to  become  famous  in  Washington  society;  tall 
and  slender  young  Terese  Chalfant,  later  to  become 
Mrs.  Pugh  of  Ohio,  and  to  receive  at  the  hands  of 
Denmark's  minister,  who  knelt  before  her  at  a  later 
public  ball,  that  jeweled  clasp  which  his  wife  had 
bade  him  present  to  the  most  beautiful  woman  he 
found  in  America.  Here  also  was  Miss  Harriet  Wil- 
Irams  of  Georgetown,  later  to  become  the  second 
wife  of  that  Baron  Bodisco  of  Russia  who  had  rep 
resented  his  government  with  us  since  the  year  1838 


382     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 


tall,  robust,  blonde  lady  she  later  grew  to  b^ 
Brown's  Hotel,  home  of  many  of  our  statesmen  and 
their  ladies,  turned  out  a  full  complement  Mr.  Clay 
was  there,  smiling,  though  I  fear  none  too  happy. 
Mr.  Edward  Everett,  as  it  chanced,  was  with  us  at 
that  time.  We  had  Sam  Houston  of  Texas,  who 
would  not,  until  he  appeared  upon  the  floor,  relin 
quish  the  striped  blanket  which  distinguished  him— * 
though  a  splendid  figure  of  a  man  he  appeared  when 
he  paced  forth  in  evening  dress,  a  part  of  which  was 
a  waistcoat  embroidered  in  such  fancy  as  might 
have  delighted  the  eye  of  his  erstwhile  Indian  wife 
had  she  been  there  to  see  it.  Here  and  there,  scat 
tered  about  the  floor,  there  might  have  been  seen 
many  of  the  public  figures  of  America  at  that  time, 
men  from  North  and  South  and  East  and  West,  and 
from  many  other  nations  beside  our  own. 

Under  Mrs.  Folk's  social  administration,  we  did 
not  waltz,  but  our  ball  began  with  a  stately  march, 
really  a  grand  procession,  in  its  way  distinctly  inter 
esting,  in  scarlet  and  gold  and  blue  and  silks,  and 
all  the  flowered  circumstance  of  brocades  and  laces 
of  our  ladies.  And  after  our  march  we  had  our  own 
polite  Virginia  reel,  merry  as  any  dance,  yet  stately 
too. 

I  was  late  in  arriving  that  night,  for  it  must  be 
remembered  that  this  was  but  my  second  day  in 
town,  and  I  had  had  small  chance  to  take  my  chief's 


THE  PALO  ALTO  BALL     383 

advice,  and  to  make  myself  presentable  for  an  oc 
casion  such  as  this.  I  was  fresh  from  my  tailor,  .and 
very  new-made  when  I  entered  the  room.  I  came 
just  in  time  to  see  what  I  was  glad  to  see;  that  is  tc> 
say,  the  keeping  of  John  Calhoun's  promise  to  Hel 
ena  von  Ritz. 

It  was  not  to  be  denied  that  there  had  been  tallc 
regarding  this  lady,  and  that  Calhoun  knew  it, 
though  not  from  me.  Muoh  of  it  was  idle  talk,  based 
largely  upon  her  mysterious  life.  Beyond  that,  a 
woman  beautiful  as  she  has  many  enemies  among 
her  sex.  There  were  dark  glances  for  her  that  night, 
I  do  not  deny,  before  Mr.  Calhoun  changed  them. 
For,  however  John  Calhoun  was  rated  by  his  ene 
mies,  the  worst  of  these  knew  well  his  austerely 
spotless  private  life,  and  his  scrupulous  concern  for 
decorum. 

Beautiful  she  surely  was.  Her  ball  gown  was  of 
light  golden  stuff,  and  there  was  a  coral  wreath  upon 
her  hair,  and  her  dancing  slippers  were  of  coral  hue. 
There  was  no  more  striking  figure  upon  the  floor 
than  she.  Jewels  blazed  at  her  throat  and  caught 
here  and  there  the  filmy  folds  of  her  gown.  Sh^  \vas 
radiant,  beautiful,  apparently  happy.  She  came 
mysteriously  enough;  but  I  knew  that  Mr.  Calhoun's 
carriage  had  been  sent  for  her.  I  learned  also  that  he 
had  waited  for  her  arrival. 

As  I  first  saw  Helena  von  Ritz,  there  stood  by  hei 


384     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

side  Doctor  Samuel  Ward,  his  square  and  stocky 
figure  not  undignified  in  his  dancing  dress,  the  stiff 
gray  mane  of  his  hair  waggling  after  its  custom  as 
he  spoke  emphatically  over  something  with  her.  A 
gruff  man,  Doctor  Ward,  but  under  his  gray  mane 
there  was  a  clear  brain,  and  in  his  broad  breast  there 
beat  a  large  and  kindly  heart. 

Even  as  I  began  to  edge  my  way  towards  these 
two,  I  saw  Mr.  Calhoun  himself  approach,  tall,  gray 
and  thin. 

He  was  very  pale  that  night;  and  I  knew  well 
enough  what  effort  it  cost  him  to  attend  any  of  these 
functions.  Yet  he  bowed  with  the  grace  of  a  younger 
man  and  offered  the  baroness  an  arm.  Then,  me- 
thinks,  all  Washington  gasped  a  bit  Not  all  Wash 
ington  knew  what  had  gone  forward  between  these 
two.  Not  all  Washington  knew  what  that  couple 
meant  as  they  marched  in  the  grand  procession  that 
night — what  they  meant  for  America.  Of  all  those 
who  saw,  I  alone  understood. 

So  they  danced;  he  with  the  dignity  of  his  j^ears 
she  with  the  grace  which  was  the  perfection  of  danc  > 
jing,  the  perfection  of  courtesy  and  of  dignity  also* 
as  though  she  knew  and  valued  to  the  full  what  was 
offered  to  her  now  by  John  Calhoun.  Grave,  sweet 
and  sad  Helena  von  Ritz  seemed  to  me  that  night. 
She  was  wholly  unconscious  of  those  who  loo?  -:d  and 


THE  PALO  ALTO  BALL     385 

whispered.  Her  face  was  pale  and  rapt  as  that  of 
some  devotee. 

Mr.  Polk  himself  stood  apart,  and  plainly  enough 
saw  this  little  matter  go  forward.  When  Mr.  Calhoun 
approached  with  the  Baroness  von  Ritz  upon  his  arm, 
Mr.  Polk  was  too  much  politician  to  hesitate  or  to 
inquire.  He  knew  that  it  was  safe  to  follow  where 
John  Calhoun  led !  These  two  conversed  for  a  few 
moments.  Thus,  I  fancy,  Helena  von  Ritz  had  her 
first  and  last  acquaintance  with  one  of  our  politicians 
to  whom  fate  gave  far  more  than  his  deserts.  It  was 
the  fortune  of  Mr.  Polk  to  gain  for  this  country 
Texas,  California  and  Oregon — not  one  of  them  by 
desert  of  his  own!  My  heart  has  often  been  bitter 
when  I  have  recalled  that  little  scene.  Politics  so 
unscrupulous  can  not  always  have  a  John  Calhoun, 
a  Helena  von  Ritz,  to  correct,  guard  and  guide. 

After  this  the  card  of  Helena  von  Ritz  might  well 
enough  indeed  been  full  had  she  cared  further  to 
dance.  She  excused  herself  gracefully,  saying  that 
after  the  honor  which  had  been  done  her  she  could 
not  ask  more.  Still,  Washington  buzzed;  somewhat 
of  Europe  as  well.  That  might  have  been  called  the 
triumph  of  Helena  von  Ritz.  She  felt  it  not.  But 
I  could  see  that  she  gloried  in  some  other  thing. 

I  approached  her  as  soon  as  possible.  "I  am  about 
to  go,"  she  said.  "Say  good-by  to  me,  now,  here! 


386    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

We  shall  not  meet  again.  Say  good-by  to  me,  now, 
quickly !  My  father  and  I  are  going  to  leave.  The 
.treaty  for  Oregon  is  prepared.  Now  I  am  done.  Yes. 
Tell  me  good-by." 

"I  will  not  say  it,"  said  I.    "I  can  not." 

She  smiled  at  me.  Others  might  see  her  lips,  her 
smile.  I  saw  what  was  in  her  eyes.  "We  must  not 
be  selfish,"  said  she.  "Come,  I  must  go." 

"Do  not  go,"  I  insisted.    "Wait." 

She  caught  my  meaning.  "Surely,"  she  said,  "I 
will  stay  a  little  longer  for  that  one  thing.  Yes,  I 
wish  to  see  her  again,  Miss  Elisabeth  Churchill.  I 
hated  her.  I  wish  that  I  might  love  her  now,  do  you 
know  ?  Would — would  she  let  me — if  she  knew  ?" 

"They  say  that  love  is  not  possible  between  wom 
en,"  said  I.  "For  my  own  part,  I  wish  with  you." 

She  interrupted  with  a  light  tap  of  her  fan  upon 
my  arm.  "Look,  is  not  that  she?" 

I  turned.  A  little  circle  of  people  were  bowing 
before  Mr.  Polk,  who  held  a  sort  of  levee  at  one  side 
of  the  hall.  I  saw  the  tall  young  girl  who  at  the  mo 
ment  swept  a  graceful  curtsey  to  the  president  My 
heart  sprang  to  my  mouth.  Yes,  it  was  Elisabeth ! 
Ah,  yes,  there  flamed  up  on  the  altar  of  my  heart  the 
one  fire,  lit  long  ago  for  her.  So  we  came  now  to 
meet,  silently,  with  small  show,  in  such  way  as  to 
thrill  none  but  our  two  selves.  She,  too,  had  served, 
and  that  largely.  And  my  constant  altar  fire  had 


THE  PALO  ALTO  BALL     387 

done  its  part  also,  strangely,  in  all  this  long  coil  of 
large  events.  Love — ah,  true  love  wins  and  rules. 
It  makes  our  maps.  It  makes  our  world. 

Among  all  these  distinguished  men,  these  beauti 
ful  women,  she  had  her  own  tribute  of  admiration. 
I  felt  rather  than  saw  that  she  was  in  some  pale, 
filmy  green,  some  crepe  of  China,  with  skirts  and 
sleeves  looped  up  with  pearls.  In  her  hair  were 
green  leaves,  simple  and  sweet  and  cool.  To  me  she 
seemed  graver,  sweeter,  than  when  I  last  had  seen 
her.  I  say,  my  heart  came  up  into  my  throat.  All  I 
could  think  was  that  I  wanted  to  take  her  into  my 
arms.  All  I  did  was  to  stand  and  stare. 

My  companion  was  more  expert  in  social  maneu 
vers.  She  waited  until  the  crowd  had  somewhat 
thinned  about  the  young  lady  and  her  escort.  I 
saw  now  with  certain  qualms  that  this  latter  was 
none  other  than  my  whilom  friend  Jack  Dandridge. 
For  a  wonder,  he  was  most  unduly  sober,  and  he 
made,  as  I  have  said,  no  bad  figure  in  his  finery.  He 
was  very  merry  and  just  a  trifle  loud  of  speech,  but, 
being  very  intimate  in  Mr.  Folk's  household,  he  was 
warmly  welcomed  by  that  gentleman  and  by  all 
around  him. 

"She  is  beautiful !"  I  heard  the  lady  at  my  arm 
whisper. 

"Is  she  beautiful  to  you?"  I  asked. 

"Very  beautiful !"     I  heard  her  catch  her  breath. 


388    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

"She  is  good.  I  wish  I  could  love  her.  I  wish,  I 
wish—" 

I  saw  her  hands  beat  together  as  they  did  when 
she  was  agitated.  I  turned  then  to  look  at  her,  and 
what  I  saw  left  me  silent.  "Come,"  said  I  at  last, 
"let  us  go  to  her."  We  edged  across  the  floor. 

When  Elisabeth  saw  me  she  straightened,  a  pallor 
came  across  her  face.  It  was  not  her  way  to  betray 
much  of  her  emotions.  If  her  head  was  a  trifle  more 
erect,  if  indeed  she  paled,  she  too  lacked  not  in  quiet 
self-possession.  She  waited,  with  wide  straight  eyes 
fixed  upon  me.  I  found  myself  unable  to  make  much 
intelligent  speech.  I  turned  to  see  Helena  von  Ritz 
gazing  with  wistful  eyes  at  Elisabeth,  and  I  saw  the 
eyes  of  Elisabeth  make  some  answer.  So  they  spoke 
some  language  which  I  suppose  men  never  will  un 
derstand — the  language  of  one  woman  to  another. 

I  have  known  few  happier  moments  in  my  life 
than  that.  Perhaps,  after  all,  I  caught  something  of 
the  speech  between  their  eyes.  Perhaps  not  all  cheap 
and  cynical  maxims  are  true,  at  least  when  applied 
to  noble  women. 

Elisabeth  regained  her  wonted  color  and  more. 

"I  was  very  wrong  in  many  ways,"  I  heard  her 
whisper.  For  almost  the  first  time  I  saw  her  per 
turbed.  Helena  von  Ritz  stepped  close  to  her.  Amid 
the  crash  of  the  reeds  and  brasses,  amid  all  the 
broken  conversation  which  swept  around  us,  I  knew 


THE  PALO  ALTO  BALL     389 

what  she  said.  Low  down  in  the  flounces  of  the  wide 
embroidered  silks,  I  saw  their  two  hands  meet,  si* 
lently,  and  cling.  This  made  me  happy. 

Of  course  it  was  Jack  Dandridge  who  broke  in 
between  us.  "Ah!"  said  he,  "you  jealous  beggar, 
could  you  not  leave  me  to  be  happy  for  one  minute? 
Here  you  come  back,  a  mere  heathen,  and  proceed 
to  monopolize  all  our  ladies.  I  have  been  making 
the  most  of  my  time,  you  see.  I  have  proposed  half 
a  dozen  times  more  to  Miss  Elisabeth,  have  I  not?" 

''Has  she  given  you  any  answer?"  I  asked  him, 
smiling. 

"The  same  answer!" 

"Jack,"  said  I,  "I  ought  to  call  you  out." 

"Don't,"  said  he.  "I  don't  want  to  be  called  out. 
I  am  getting  found  out  That's  worse.  Well — Miss 
Elisabeth,  may  I  be  the  first  to  congratulate?" 

"I  am  glad,"  said  I,  with  just  a  slight  trace  of 
severity,  "that  you  have  managed  again  to  get  into 
the  good  graces  of  Elmhurst.  When  I  last  saw  you, 
I  was  not  sure  that  either  of  us  would  ever  be  in 
vited  there  again." 

"Been  there  every  Sunday  regularly  since  you 
went  away,"  said  Jack.  "I  am  not  one  of  the  family  ' 
in  one  way,  and  in  another  way  I  am.  Honestly,  I 
have  tried  my  best  to  cut  you  out.  Not  that  you 
have  not  played  your  game  well  enough,  but  there 
never  was  a  game  played  so  well  that  some  other 


390    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

fellow  could  not  win  by  coppering  it.  So  I  coppered 
everything  you  did — played  it  for  just  the  reverse. 
No  go — lost  even  that  way.  And  I  thought  you 
were  the  most  perennial  fool  of  your  age  and  gen 
eration." 

I  checked  as  gently  as  I  could  a  joviality  which  I 
thought  unsuited  to  the  time.  "Mr.  Dandridge," 
said  I  to  him,  "you  know  the  Baroness  von  Ritz  ?" 

"Certainly!  The  particeps  criminis  of  our  bun 
gled  wedding — of  course  I  know  her !" 

"I  only  want  to  say,"  I  remarked,  "that  ths 
Baroness  von  Ritz  has  that  little  shell  clasp  now  all 
for  her  own,  and  that  I  have  her  slipper  again,  all 
for  my  own.  So  now,  we  three — no,  four — at  last 
understand  one  another,  do  we  not?  Jack  will  you 
do  two  things  for  me?" 

"All  of  them  but  two." 

"When  the  Baroness  von  Ritz  insists  on  b.er  in 
tention  of  leaving  us — just  at  the  height  of  all  our 
happiness — I  want  you  to  hand  her  to  her  carriage. 
In  the  second  place,  I  may  need  you  again — " 

"Well,  what  would  any  one  think  of  that!"  said 
Jack  Dandridge. 

I  never  knew  when  these  two  left  us  in  the  crowd. 
I  never  said  good-by  to  Helena  von  Ritz.  I  did  not 
catch  that  last  look  of  her  eye.  I  remember  her  as 
she  stood  there  that  night,  grave,  sweet  and  sad. 

I  turned  to  Elisabeth.    There  in  the  crash  of  the 


THE  PALO  ALTO  BALL     391 

reeds  and  brasses,  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  sweet  and 

bitter  conversation  all  around  us,  was  the  comedy 

and  the  tragedy  of  life. 

"Elisabeth,"  I  said  to  her,  "are you  not  ashamed?" 
She  looked  me  full  in  the  eye.    "No!"  she  said, 

and  smiled. 

I  have  never  seen  a  smile  like  Elisabeth's. 


THE  END 


EPILOGUE 

x*Tis  the  Star  Spangled  Banner;  O,  long  may  it  wave, 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free,  and  the  home  of  the  bravel" 

—Francis  Scott  Key. 

ON  the  night  that  Miss  Elisabeth  Churchill 
gave  me  her  hand  and  her  heart  for  ever — 
for  which  I  have  not  yet  ceased  to  thank 
God — there  began  the  guns  of  Palo  Alto.  Later, 
there  came  the  fields  of  Monterey,  Buena  Vista, 
Cerro  Gordo,  Contreras,  Cherubusco,  Molino  del 
Rey — at  last  the  guns  sounded  at  the  gate  of  the  old 
City  of  Mexico  itself.  Some  of  that  fighting  I  my 
self  saw;  but  much  of  the  time  I  was  employed  in 
that  manner  of  special  work  which  had  engaged  me 
for  the  last  few  years.  It  was  through  Mr.  Cal- 
houn's  agency  that  I  reached  a  certain  importance 
in  these  matters ;  and  so  I  was  chosen  as  the  commis 
sioner  to  negotiate  a  peace  with  Mexico. 

This  honor  later  proved  to  be  a  dangerous  and 
questionable  one.  General  Scott  wanted  no  inter-; 
ference  of  this  kind,  especially  since  he  knew  Mr. 
Calhoun's  influence  in  my  choice.  He  thwarted  all 
my  attempts  to  reach  the  headquarters  of  the  enemy, 
and  did  everything  he  could  to  secure  a  peace  of  his 

392 


EPILOGUE  393; 

own,  at  the  mouth  of  the  cannon.  I  could  offer  no 
terms  better  than  Mr.  Buchanan,  then  our  secretary 
of  state,  had  prepared  for  me,  and  these  were  re 
jected  by  the  Mexican  government  at  last.  I  was 
ordered  by  Mr.  Polk  to  state  that  we  had  no  better 
terms  to  offer ;  and  as  for  myself,  I  was  told  to  return 
to  Washington.  At  that  time  I  could  not  make  my 
way  out  through  the  lines,  nor,  in  truth,  did  I  much 
care  to  do  so. 

A  certain  event  not  written  in  history  influenced 
me  to  remain  for  a  time  at  the  little  village  of  Gua- 
dalupe  Hidalgo.  Here,  in  short,  I  received  word 
from  a  lady  whom  I  had  formerly  known,  none  less 
than  Senora  Yturrio,  once  a  member  of  the  Mexi 
can  legation  at  Washington.  True  to  her  record, 
she  had  again  reached  influential  position  in  her 
country,  using  methods  of  her  own.  She  told  me 
now  to  pay  no  attention  to  what  had  been  reported 
by  Mexico.  In  fact,  I  was  approached  again  by 
the  Mexican  commissioners,  introduced  by  her! 
WThat  was  done  then  is  history.  We  signed  then  and 
there  the  peace  of  Guadalupe  Hidalgo,  in  accord 
ance  with  the  terms  originally  given  me  by  our 
secretary  of  state.  So,  after  all,  Calhoun's  kindness 
to  a  woman  in  distress  was  not  lost ;  and  so,  after  all, 
he  unwittingly  helped  in  the  ending  of  the  war  he 
never  wished  begun. 

Meantime,  I  had  been  recalled  to  Washington,  but 


394     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

did  not  know  the  nature  of  that  recall.  When  at  last 
I  arrived  there  I  found  myself  disgraced  and  dis 
credited.  My  actions  were  repudiated  by  the  ad 
ministration.  I  myself  was  dismissed  from  the 
service  without  pay — s.ad  enough  blow  for  a  young 
inan  who  had  been  married  less  than  a  year. 

Mr.  Folk's  jealousy  of  John  Calhoun  was  not  the 
only  cause  of  this.  Calhoun's  prophecy  was  right. 
Polk  did  not  forget  his  revenge  on  me.  Yet,  none 
the  less,  after  his  usual  fashion,  he  was  not  averse  to 
receiving  such  credit  as  he  could.  He  put  the  re. 
sponsibility  of  the  treaty  upon  the  Senate!  It  was 
debated  hotly  there  for  some  weeks,  and  at  last, 
much  to  his  surprise  and  my  gratification,  it  was 
ratified ! 

The  North,  which  had  opposed  this  Mexican  War 
—that  same  war  which  later  led  inevitably  to  the 
War  of  the  Rebellion — now  found  itself  unable  to 
say  much  against  the  great  additions  to  our  domain 
which  the  treaty  had  secured.  We  paid  fifteen  mil 
lions,  in  addition  to  our  territorial  indemnity  claim, 
and  we  got  a  realm  whose  wealth  could  not  be  com 
puted.  So  much,  it  must  be  owned,  did  fortune  do 
for  that  singular  favorite,  Mr.  Polk.  And,  curiously 
enough,  the  smoke  had  hardly  cleared  from  Palo 
Alto  field  before  Abraham  Lincoln,  a  young  member 
in  the  House  of  Congress,  was  introducing  a  resolu- 
,tion  which  asked  the  marking  of  "the  spot  where 


EPILOGUE  395 

that  outrage  was  committed."  Perhaps  it  was  an 
outrage.  Many  still  hold  it  so.  But  let  us  reflect 
what  would  have  been  Lincoln's  life  had  matters 
not  gone  just  as  they  did. 

With  the  cessions  from  Mexico  came  the  great 
domain  of  California.  Now,  look  how  strangely 
history  sometimes  works  out  itself.  Had  there  been 
any  suspicion  of  the  discovery  of  gold  in  California, 
neither  Mexico  nor  our  republic  ever  would  have 
owned  it!  England  surely  would  have  taken  it. 
The  very  year  that  my  treaty  eventually  was  ratified 
was  that  in  which  gold  was  discovered  in  California! 
But  it  was  too  late  then  for  England  to  interfere; 
too  late  then,  also,  for  Mexico  to  claim  it.  We  got 
untold  millions  of  treasure  there.  Most  of  those 
millions  went  to  the  Northern  States,  into  manufac 
tures,  into  commerce.  The  North  owned  that  gold ; 
and  it  was  that  gold  which  gave  the  North  the  power 
to  crush  that  rebellion  which  was  born  of  the  Mex 
ican  War — that  same  rebellion  by  which  England, 
too  late,  would  gladly  have  seen  this  Union  dis 
rupted,  so  that  she  might  have  yet  another  chance  at 
these  lands  she  now  had  lost  for  ever. 

Fate  seemed  still  to  be  with  us,  after  all,  as  I  have 
jO  often  had  occasion  to  believe  may  be  a  possible 
thing.  That  war  of  conquest  which  Mr.  Calhoun 
opposed,  that  same  war  which  grew  out  of  the  slav 
ery  tenets  which  he  himself  held — the  great  error  of 


396     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

his  otherwise  splendid  public  life — found  its  own 
correction  in  the  Civil  War.  It  was  the  gold  of  Cali 
fornia  which  put  down  slavery.  Thenceforth  slavery 
has  existed  legally  only  north  of  the  Mason  and 
Dixon  line! 

"We  have  our  problems  yet.  Perhaps  some  other 
v^ar  may  come  to  settle  them.  Fortunate  for  us  if 
there  could  be  another  California,  another  Tex?s, 
another  Oregon,  to  help  us  pay  for  them ! 

I,  who  was  intimately  connected  with  many  of 
these  less  known  matters,  claim  for  my  master  a 
reputation  wholly  different  from  that  given  to  him 
in  any  garbled  "history"  of  his  life.  I  lay  claim  in 
his  name  for  foresight  beyond  that  of  any  man  of 
his  time.  He  made  mistakes,  but  he  made  them 
bravely,  grandly,  and  consistently.  Where  his  con 
victions  were  enlisted,  he  had  no  reservations,  and 
he  used  every  means,  every  available  weapon,  as  I 
have  shown.  But  he  was  never  self-seeking,  never 
cheap,  never  insincere.  A  detester  of  all  machine 
politicians,  he  was  a  statesman  worthy  to  be  called 
the  William  Pitt  of  the  United  States.  The  con 
sistency  of  his  career  was  a  marvelous  thing;  be 
cause,  though  he  changed  in  his  beliefs,  he  was  first 
to  recognize  the  changing  conditions  of  our  country.) 
He  failed,  and  he  is  execrated.  He  won,  and  he  is 
forgot. 

My  chief,  Mr.   Calhoun,  did  not  die  until  some 


EPILOGUE  397 

six  years  after  that  first  evening  when  Doctor  Ward 
and  I  had  our  talk  with  him.  He  was  said  to  have 
died  of  a  disease  of  the  lungs,  yet  here  again  history 
is  curiously  mistaken.  Mr.  Calhoun  slept  himself 
away.  I  sometimes  think  with  a  shudder  that  per 
haps  this  was  the  revenge  which  Nemesis  took  of 
him  for  his  mistakes.  His  last  days  were  dreamlike 
in  their  passing.  His  last  speech  in  the  Senate  was 
read  by  one  of  his  friends,  as  Doctor  Ward  had  ad 
vised  him.  Some  said  afterwards  that  his  illness 
was  that  accursed  "sleeping  sickness"  imported  from 
Africa  with  these  same  slaves.  It  were  a  strange 
thing  had  John  Calhoun  indeed  died  of  his  error! 
At  least  he  slept  away.  At  least,  too,  he  made  his 
atonement.  The  South,  following  his  doctrines, 
itself  was  long  accursed  of  this  same  sleeping  sick 
ness;  but  in  the  providence  of  God  it  was  not  lost 
to  us,  and  is  ours  for  a  long  and  splendid  history. 

It  was  through  John  Calhoun,  a  grave  and  somber 
figure  of  our  history,  that  we  got  the  vast  land  of 
Texas.  It  was  through  him  also — and  not  through 
Clay  nor  Jackson,  nor  any  of  the  northern  states 
men,  who  never  could  see  a  future  for  the  West — 
that  we  got  all  of  our  vast  Northwest  realm.  Within 
a  few  days  after  the  Palo  Alto  ball,  a  memorandum 
of  -agreement  was  signed  between  Minister  Paken- 
ham  and  Mr.  Buchanan,  our  secretary  of  state. 
This  was  done  at  the  instance  and  by  the  aid  of  John 


398     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY   OR  FIGHT 

Calhotm.  It  was  he — he  and  Helena  von  Ritz — who 
brought  about  that  treaty  which,  on  June  fifteenth, 
of  the  same  year,  was  signed,  and  gladly  signed,  by 
the  minister  from  Great  Britain.  The  latter  had 
been  fully  enough  impressed  (such  was  the  story) 
by  the  reports  of  the  columns  of  our  west-bound 
farmers,  with  rifles  leaning  at  their  wagon  seats  and| 
plows  lashed  to  the  tail-gates.  Calhoun  himself, 
never  ceased  to  regret  that  we  could  not  delay  a  year 
or  two  years  longer.  In  this  he  was  thwarted  by  the 
impetuous  war  with  the  republic  on  the  south,  al 
though,  had  that  never  been  fought,  we  had  lost 
California — lost  also  the  South,  and  lost  the  Union ! 

Under  one  form  or  other,  one  name  of  govern 
ment  or  another,  the  flag  of  democracy  eventually 
must  float  over  all  this  continent.  Not  a  part,  but  all 
of  this  country  must  be  ours,  must  be  the  people's. 
It  may  cost  more  blood  and  treasure  now.  Some 
time  we  shall  see  the  wisdom  of  John  Calhoun ;  but 
some  time,  too,  I  think,  we  shall  see  come  true  that 
prophecy  of  a  strange  and  brilliant  mentality,  which 
in  Calhoun's  presence  and  in  mine  said  that  all  of 
these  northern  lands  and  all  Mexico  as  well  must 
one  day  be  ours — which  is  to  say,  the  people's — for 
the  sake  of  human  opportunity,  of  human  hope  and< 
happiness.  Our  battles  are  but  partly  fought.  But 
at  least  they  are  not,  then,  lost. 

For  myself,  the  close  of  the  Mexican  War  found 


EPILOGUE  399 

somewhat  worn  by  travel  and  illy  equipped  in 
financial  matters.  I  had  been  discredited,  I  say,  by 
my  own  government.  My  pay  was  withheld.  Elisa 
beth,  by  that  time  my  wife,  was  a  girl  reared  in  all 
vhe  luxury  that  our  country  then  could  offer.  Shall 
I  say  whether  or  not  I  prized  her  more  when  gladly 
she  gave  up  all  this  and  joined  me  for  one  more 
long  and  final  journey  out  across  that  great  trail 
which  I  had  seen — the  trail  of  democracy,  of  Amer 
ica,  of  the  world? 

At  last  we  reached  Oregon.  It  holds  the  grave  of 
one  of  ours;  it  is  the  home  of  others.  We  were 
happy;  we  asked  favor  of  no  man;  fear  of  no  one 
did  we  feel.  Elisabeth  has  in  her  time  slept  on  a 
bed  of  husks.  She  has  cooked  at  a  sooty  fireplace  of 
her  own ;  and  at  her  cabin  door  I  myself  have  been 
the  guard.  We  made  our  way  by  ourselves  and  for 
ourselves,  as  did  those  who  conquered  America  for 
our  flag.  "The  citizen  standing  in  the  doorway  of 
his  home,  shall  save  the  Republic."  So  wrote  a 
later  pen. 

It  was  not  until  long  after  the  discovery  of  gold 
in  California  had  set  us  all  to  thinking  that  I  was 
reminded  of  the  strange  story  of  the  old  German, 
Von  Rittenhofen,  of  finding  some  pieces  of  gold 
while  on  one  of  his  hunts  for  butterflies.  I  followed 
out  his  vague  directions  as  best  I  might.  We  found 
gold  enough  to  make  us  rich  without  our  land.  That 


400    FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

claim  is  staked  legally.    Half  of  it  .awaits  an  owner 
who  perhaps  will  never  come. 

There  are  those  who  will  accept  always  the  solemn 
asseverations  of  politicians,  who  by  word  of  mouth 
or  pen  assert  that  this  or  that  party  made  our  coun 
try,  wrote  its  history.  Such  as  they  might  smile  if 
told  that  not  even  men,  much  less  politicians,  have 
written  all  our  story  as  a  nation ;  yet  any  who  smile 
at  woman's  influence  in  American  history  do  so  in 
ignorance  of  the  truth.  Mr.  Webster  and  Lord  Ash- 
burton  have  credit  for  determining  our  boundary  on 
the  northeast — England  called  it  Ashburton's  capit 
ulation  to  the  Yankee.  Did  you  never  hear  the 
other  gossip?  England  laid  all  that  to  Ashburton's 
American  wife!  Look  at  that  poor,  hot-tempered 
devil,  Yrujo,  minister  from  Spain  with  us,  who  saw 
his  king's  holdings  on  this  continent  juggled  from 
hand  to  hand  between  us  all.  His  wife  was  daugh 
ter  of  Governor  McKean  in  Pennsylvania  yonder. 
If  she  had  no  influence  with  her  husband,  so  much 
the  worse  for  her.  In  important  times  a  generation 
ago  M.  Genet,  of  France,  as  all  know,  was  the  hus 
band  of  the  daughter  of  Governor  Clinton  of  New 
York.  Did  that  hurt  our  chances  with  France?  My 
Lord  Oswald,  of  Great  Britain,  who  negotiated  our 
treaty  of  peace  in  1782 — was  not  his  worldly  fortune 
made  by  virtue  of  his  American  wife?  All  of  us 
should  remember  that  Marbois,  Napoleon's  minister, 


EPILOGUE  401 

who  signed  the  great  treaty  for  him  with  us,  mar 
ried  his  wife  while  he  was  a  mere  charge  here  in 
Washington;  and  she,  too,  was  an  American.  Ers- 
kine,  of  England,  when  times  were  strained  in  1808, 
and  later — and  our  friend  for  the  most  part — was 
not  he  also  husband  of  an  American?  It  was  as' 
John  Calhoun  said — our  history,  like  that  of  Eng 
land  and  France,  like  that  of  Rome  and  Troy,  was 
made  in  large  part  by  women. 

Of  that  strange  woman,  Helena,  Baroness  von 
Ritz,  I  have  never  definitely  heard  since  then.  But 
all  of  us  have  heard  of  that  great  uplift  of  Central 
Europe,  that  ferment  of  revolution,  most  noticeable 
in  Germany,  in  1848.  Out  of  that  revolutionary 
spirit  there  came  to  us  thousands  and  thousands  of 
our  best  population,  the  sturdiest  and  the  most  lib 
erty-loving  citizens  this  country  ever  had.  They 
gave  us  scores  of  generals  in  our  late  war,  and  gave 
us  at  least  one  cabinet  officer.  But  whence  came 
that  spirit  of  revolution  in  Europe?  Why  does  it 
live,  grow,  increase,  even  now?  Why  does  it  sound 
now,  close  to  the  oldest  thrones?  Where  originated 
that  germ  of  liberty  which  did  its  work  so  well?  I 
am  at  least  one  who  believes  that  I  could  guess  some 
thing  of  its  source. 

The  revolution  in  Hungary  failed  for  the  time. 
Kossuth  came  to  see  us  with  pleas  that  we  might  aid 
Hungary.  But  republics  forget  We  gave  no  aid  to 


402     FIFTY-FOUR  FORTY  OR  FIGHT 

Hungary.  I  was  far  away  and  did  not  meet  Kos- 
suth.  I  should  have  been  glad  to  question  him.  I 
did  not  forget  Helena  von  Ritz,  nor  doubt  that  she 
worked  out  in  full  that  strange  destiny  for  which, 
indeed,  she  was  born  and  prepared,  to  which  she 
devoted  herself,  made  clean  by  sacrifice.  She  was 
not  one  to  leave  her  work  undone.  She,  I  know, 
jpassed  on  her  torch  of  principle. 

Elisabeth  and  I  speak  often  of  Helena  von  Ritz. 
I  remember  her  still — brilliant,  beautiful,  fascina 
ting,  compelling,  pathetic,  tragic.  If  it  was  asked  of 
her,  I  know  that  she  still  paid  it  gladly — all  that 
sacrifice  through  which  alone  there  can  be  worked 
out  the  progress  of  humanity,  under  that  idea  which 
blindly  we  attempted  to  express  in  our  Declaration ; 
that  idea  which  at  times  we  may  forget,  but  which 
eventually  must  triumph  for  the  good  of  all  the 
world.  She  helped  us  make  our  map.  Shall  not  that 
for  which  she  stood  help  us  hold  it? 

At  least,  let  me  say,  I  have  thought  this  little  story 
might  be  set  down;  and,  though  some  to-day  may 
smile  at  flags  and  principles,  I  should  like,  if  I  may 
be  allowed,  to  close  with  the  words  of  yet  another 
man  of  those  earlier  times :  "The  old  flag  of  the 
Union  was  my  protector  in  infancy  and  the  pride 
and  glory  of  my  riper  years;  and,  by  the  grace  of 
God,  under  its  shadow  I  shall  die !"  N.  T. 

FINIS 


Zane  Grey's  Thrilling  Novels 

May  be  had  wherever  books  are  sold.  Ask  for  Grosser  &  Dunlap's  list. 


Zane  Grey  has  lived  the  rugged  life  he  writes  about  in 
his  books.  The  wild  fierce  blood  of  Indian  chiefs  flows  In 
his  veins.  All  his  stories  are  splendidly  American,  thrill 
ing,  romantic,  packed  with  action  and  color. 


Code  of  the  West 
Robber's  Roost 
Drift  Fence 
Arizona  Ames 
Sunset  Pass 

The  Shepherd  of 
Guadaloupe 

Fighting  Caravans 

Wild  Horse  Mesa 

Nevada 

Forlorn  River 

Under  the  Tonto  Rim 

The  Vanishing  American 

Tappan's  Burro 

The  Thundering  Herd 

Wanderer  of  the 
Wasteland 


The  Call  of  the  Canyon 

Hie  Hash  Knife  Outfit 

To  the  Last  Man 

The  Mysterious  Rider 

The  Man  of  the  Forest 

The  U-P  Trail 

Wildfire 

The  Border  Legion 

The  Rainbow  Trail 

The  Heritage  of  the  Desert 

Riders  of  the  Purple  Sage 

Light  of  Western  Stars 

The  Lone  Star  Ranger 

Desert  Gold 

Betty  Zane 


GROSSET  &  DUNLAP        Publishers        NEW  YORK 


A  SELECTED  LIST  OF  THRILLING 

WESTERN    NOVELS 

By  outstanding  authors  of  recent  years 

May  be  had  wherever  books  are  sold.  Ask  for  Grosset  &  Dunlap's  list. 

CODE  OF  THE  WEST Zane  Grey 

WEST  OF  THE  APACHE  PASS  . . .  .Charles  Alden  Seltzer 

PARADISE  RANGE George  Johnson 

DRY-GULCH  ADAMS Peter  Field 

THE  TRAIL  OF  DANGER William  MacLeod  Raine 

MONTANA  RIDES  AGAIN Evan  Evans 

RIFLED  GOLD  W.  C.  Turtle 

TEXAS  SHERIFF Edward  Cunningham 

RENEGADE  RIDERS Claude  Rister 

RIDERS  OF  THE  CHAPARRAL George  B.  Rodney 

VALLEY  OF  ADVENTURE Jackson  Gregory 

THE  WHOOP-UP  TRAIL B.  M.  Bower 

THIRSTY  RANGE E.  B.  Mann 

SILVER  RIVER  RANCH L.  A.  Keating 

HELL-CRAZY  RANCH Francis  Hilton 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP  Publishers  NEW  YORK 


William  MacLeod  Raine's 

DASHING  NOVELS  of  FRONTIER  LIFE 

May  be  had  wherever  books  are  sold.  Ask  for  Grosset  &  Dunlap's  list. 

Raine  himself  once  rode  the  plains  with  the  Arizona  Rang 
ers.  So  the  hiss  of  the  branding  iron  and  the  music  of 
spitting  six-shooters  are  no  strangers  to  him. 


The  Trail  of  Danger 

For  Honor  and  Life 

Under  Northern  Stars 

Beyond  the  Rio  Grande 

The  Valiant 

Colorado 

The  Fighting  Edge 

The  Big-Town  Round-up 

A  Man  Four  Square 

Brand  Blotters 

Wyoming 

Crooked  Trails  and 
Straight 


Roaring  River 
The  Broad  Arrow 
The  Black  Tolts 

Rutledge  Trails  the  Ace 
of  Spades 

The  Fighting  Tenderfoot 

Judge  Colt 

Gunsight  Pass 

Oh,  You  Tex! 

A  Texas  Ranger 

Bucky  O'Connor 

A  Daughter  of  the  Dons 

Ridgeway  of  Montana 


GROSSET  &  DUNLAP        Publishers        NEW  YORK 


Charles  Alden  Seltzer's 
Novels  of  the  West 

May  be  had  wherever  books  are  sold.  Ask  for  Grosset  &  Dunlap's  list. 

Seltzer  himself  used  to  punch  cows  and  ride  the  ranges  with 
just  such  chaps  as  he  writes  about  in  the  stories.  That's  why 
his  cowboy  yarns  are  real  full  of  lightning  action,  reckless 
courage  and  romance. 

WEST  OF  APACHE  PASS 

CLEAR  THE  TRAIL 

DOUBLE  CROSS  RANCH 

A  SON  OF  ARIZONA 

THE  RED  BRAND 

LONESOME  RANCH 

THE  MESA 

MYSTERY  RANGE 

THE  LAND  OF  THE  FREE 

WAR  ON  WISHBONE  RANGE 

THE  GENTLEMAN  FROM  VIRGINIA 

BRASS  COMMANDMENTS 

WEST! 

THE  BOSS  OF  LAZY  Y 

DRAG  HARLAN 

LAST  HOPE  RANCH 

SQUARE  DEAL  SANDERSON 

THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  STARS 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP  Publishers  NEW  YORK 


OVERni  ST.Ort     ^...      **VV'V  THir  ev» . . _        **r 


,B  32970 


1)93449 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


